When It Rains
by everymonday
Summary: It rains and it pours and he can think of nothing but Lizzy Bennet and the handprint she left on his heart. A story about loss, love, rain, and how the three changed William Darcy.
1. Find Yourself a New Home

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter One: Find Yourself a New Home**

_We'll say just forget about all of the things you can't save  
Find some place you call your own, find yourself a new home  
Where you're never alone  
Go ahead, run away_

- The Scene Aesthetic, _We've Got The Rain On Our Side _

_

* * *

_

_It's days like this that make William Darcy think of her. _

_The sky is dark and the mood is gray. It's been raining all day. Water pours from low clouds, soaking his clothes and skin, as he makes his way to his car. He has no umbrella today, but he doesn't run to his destination the way people around him do. His shoes get wetter and wetter with every puddle his feet step in, and his shirt soon becomes so wet that the fabric clings to his chest. He doesn't mind the rain. It doesn't bother him. His clothes will eventually dry, the raindrops on his skin will evaporate, and tomorrow there will be no trace of rain on him. _

_William reaches his car, and just before opening the door, he takes a deep breath, taking in the smell of rain and earth and the mixture of the two. For a split second, he is miles away from here, with the girl that taught him to appreciate this weather. _

_It rains and it pours and he can think of nothing but Lizzy and the handprint she left on his heart. _

_William wonders if it's raining where she is. He wonders if she still loves the rain. _

_

* * *

_

It rains on William's first official day in America.

Fitzwilliam Henry Darcy hates the rain. It's not _supposed_ to rain in _America_. What kind of welcome is this?

The rain reminds him too much of England. It reminds him of familiar streets and people he's known all his life. It reminds him that this is not home, just some place that's pretending to be. It reminds him that his mother is dead and his father moved them away from home.

America is not home, despite the rain.

This house is much bigger than their home in London. It's emptier too, empty of cable television until next week, empty of friends until he actually makes some American ones, and empty of possessions until the staff finish unpacking everything. It's empty, and William _feels _empty.

That, he blames on the awful flight that caused him to vomit in the taxi, just minutes before arriving at house.

William presses his forehead to the cold window and stares at the droplets as they fall from dark clouds. His heavy breath creates a fog on the glass, and he uses his hand to wipe it away. He wishes he could wipe the rain away with just as little effort. He can hear the housekeeper singing to his sister, but he has no interest in pink teacups and tiny hands today. Today is his first day in America, and it's _raining_.

A slender girl in a floppy yellow hat, a spotted purple raincoat, and bright red rain boots comes into his vision. She seems too old to be wearing such frivolous clothing. The harsh colors invade his gray world of sadness, and he watches curiously as she jumps in every puddle she can find. She stops in front of his house, his window, and for a second he thinks that she sees him, but she doesn't. The girl doesn't acknowledge him at all. Instead, she starts spinning. Her arms are open, her eyes are closed, and the rest of her is wet. She's spinning and laughing until she finally collapses to the ground when one more spin becomes one spin too many.

The girl doesn't get up right away, and William wonders if he should go help her. After a few moments, she pulls her hat off of her head to reveal a head of messy, wet brown hair. The hat drops to the ground and she uses both hands to wring out the water in her hair. He doesn't understand why since it's still raining so her hair is absorbing as much water as she's wringing out. After three attempts, she succeeds at standing, and then she proceeds to do a few cartwheels in the road until a car drives up the street and honks at her for playing in the middle of the road in a rainstorm.

She walks to the sidewalk on his side of the street, and her eyes meet his when he doesn't think to look away quickly enough. She stares at him curiously, and under the shadow of clouds and raindrops, he can see the blush on her cheeks is nearly as bright as the red of her boots. He can't decide if it's from her earlier spinning or from being caught spinning. William's not sure how long they stare at each other, but eventually, she's the one that breaks eye contact and walk away.

* * *

One by one, their possessions are thrown away and replaced with new ones. He watches as his father admonishes the old servants over the phone for even shipping them here because they're useless. The new servants hesitantly remove vases and plates and toys and replace them with newer, shinier ones.

William doesn't know what happens to the old items because he doesn't ask. He doesn't ask, because he doubts he would like the answer. He tells himself they're just possessions, though he knows they were his mother's possessions, and somehow that means something entirely different.

When he is absolutely sure no one is looking, he furtively takes an old quilt from a box, and then quickly walks to his room, where he stashes it under his bed.

He orders the servants to never enter his room unless he specifically instructs them to.

Within minutes, there are whispers about his disposition among the staff. He, however, remains unaware until his father comments on it a few hours later at dinner.

"Mrs. Reynolds tell me you've ordered everyone to stay out of your room."

"Yes," William replies, staring intently at the flowers in the center of the table. The mixture of violet, red, and yellow reminds him of the Rainstorm Girl.

His father stops cutting his steak. "Any particular reason, William?"

"I'm allowed my privacy," William answers, meeting his father's eyes.

His father gives him a smile that might be classified as proud. Normally, William would be ecstatic to receive such a smile, but not today.

Today he has one proud father and no mother, and it's _raining_. It just doesn't seem fair.

* * *

William thinks that had he fought hard enough, he could have stayed in London.

It's been a week in America, and it still hasn't stopped raining.

He sits on the bed and listens to the persistent pitter-patter of rain, and wonders why he hadn't fought.

It doesn't take long to find the answers.

The seventeen year old in him would like to say he has his own mind and the ability to do as he pleased, but the Darcy in him knows that it would have been a disgrace to not be with his father and sister at this time. The Darcy in him is stronger than anything else he has inside of him, it always has been.

William could count on one hand the number of times he'd ever defied his father. It happened to be the same number of times he'd felt the sting of the back of his father's hand.

If he were to look deeper, to a place he denied existed, he'd find one very simple truth. One parent had left him, and he craved approval so much that he'd do anything to earn the other's affection.

If he's honest with himself, William knows that he would not have been able to stay in England without his mother and sister.

* * *

There is a sad kind of familiarity in his reflection. He looks in the mirror and sees someone he thinks he used to know. A person from another life, maybe. He has dark, unruly hair and a nose that connects him to a long line of men much greater than him. This person in the mirror has good bone structure and a strong jaw line. He has his mother's eyes, but it doesn't matter because he doesn't have a mother anymore.

William doesn't know who this person staring back at him is anymore.

William has trouble sleeping at night. He's too old to have nightmares. Nightmares are for children who have watched too many scary movies. Nightmares have monsters and aliens and clowns that chase you until you wake up screaming for your mother.

The dreams that keep William up at night are ones where he is doing the chasing. He's chasing something, and no matter how fast he runs, how badly his lungs burn, he can't catch up. His legs feel like they may fall off from all the exertion and his arms are stretched to their limit trying to reach out to the thing he's chasing, but it always gets away. It's dark and cold, and no one is there to help him. He wakes up in a cold sweat and has no one to call for. He's too old for this.

With a great sigh of defeat, William gets out of bed. His bare feet touch the quilt peeking out from under the bed. It brings him no comfort, and he is quick to move his feet to stop the contact.

As quietly as possible, he opens the door and walks down the hall to his sister's room.

William had wanted a brother, one that he could boss around the way his older cousin Richard bossed him around. He was given a sister instead.

He'd never admit this, but he really doesn't mind having a sister. Georgiana is a good kid, and she always smells nice.

His sister is sleeping soundly in her bed when he enters the room. He stares at her from his spot near the door. Georgiana had cried violently in his arms the day their mother died, and again on the day of the funeral. He sometimes hears her asking the servants to do things the way their mother did them.

William inhales deeply and tries desperately to hold onto something, what, he's not quite sure. What he is sure of, however, is that Georgiana smells vaguely like his mother and home. His sister is his last link to both.

* * *

American television numbs his brain in a way that nothing else could. He stares at it, taking in yellow sponges, girls in their bikinis, and American adults acting like utter fools. For brief moments, he's able to forget about the pain.

Mrs. Reynolds, their housekeeper, suggests that he go outside to get some fresh air, since it has finally stopped raining.

William is so sick of everyone's curious stares that he complies.

It's hot and humid outside, but William walks and walks until he reaches what looks like a park. It's a nice park, he decides after some surveying. The ratio of kids to swings isn't overwhelming, and there is no litter on the ground.

Under the shade of a large tree, he recognizes the girl he saw dancing in the rainstorm on his first day in America. She looks like she's packing up to leave, and William stands rooted to his spot, watching her.

When her ragged orange backpack is zipped up, she puts both straps on her shoulders and stands. Her hair is a deep chestnut color and looks a lot better than the wet mess he remembers.

She's the only one he knows here, he realizes, but even that isn't enough motivation to talk to her, and the Rainstorm Girl leaves before he can change his mind. Not that he would have. He doesn't _really_ know her.

* * *

His father spends his day off visiting the family that lives across the street, and William is forced to go along.

According to his father, the Bingleys are a respectable family. His father begins talking about advertising and marketing efforts with Mr. Bingley, and William realizes this is a business visit.

"How do you like America?" Charles Bingley asks when their fathers leave to talk more privately. The boy is about his age, though he looks younger as he stuffs his hands in his pockets and avoids eye contact.

"It's different," William replies. He watches the boy's stance critically for a weakness, a character flaw, as he was taught to do.

"Have you met anyone else in the neighborhood yet?" Charles sits down on the couch. He looks a little less uncomfortable now.

"No."

"There's no one to meet really," the other boy confesses. "Most of the people around here are retired and their kids are old."

William remains standing and wonders if he's obligated to reply.

"There are a lot of people our age a few miles down the road from here, across from the river." Charles gestures to the chair across from him, and William feels rude if he does not sit, so he does.

"Do they go to our school?" he asks, remembering the earlier conversation when his father announced he'd be sending William to Charles' school.

"No," Charles answers, and before he can elaborate, a tall redheaded girl enters the room.

William stands politely.

"Charles!" she exclaims, though she is staring at William. "Who is your friend?"

"This is William Darcy." Charles shoots him an apologetic look. "This is my older sister Caroline."

William nods and shakes her hand politely. Caroline offers him a wide smile. If he wanted, he could probably count all of her white teeth. "Nice to meet you, William. Did you just move across the street?"

"Yes." He takes his seat as she sits down next to Charles.

"How do you like it?" She crosses her right leg over her left, causing her denim skirt to ride up and giving him a better view of her long, tanned legs.

"Fine." He takes his eyes away, uninterested. To be fair to her though, nothing really interests him these days.

"It's a positively beautiful house! I'm so happy to see someone's finally moved into it."

Caroline is a very pretty girl, and William has a feeling that she knows it. She shares Charles's dignified nose, sun-tanned skin, and green. Her features are softer and come together more delicately, though her eyes lack the easy warmth that is so abundant in her brother's.

"You have a sister, don't you?" Caroline continues. "I heard our fathers talking. Why didn't you bring her today?"

"She's seven."

"Oh, well, I love children!" She says this in a way that makes William feel like it's been rehearsed. Her voice is grating on his nerves. "There are hardly any in the neighborhood."

Charles looks like he wants to say something, but he refrains.

"There's no one else here our age," Caroline continues with a pout. "The summer's been so boring since I got back from Paris. Daddy wouldn't let me go anywhere because I had to take a bunch of SAT prep courses here, and he said I had already had enough fun for one summer. As if a girl could have ever enough fun! I could have totally done my classes online, but he didn't think that I would have been able to focus. Parents are so annoying, right?"

William does not respond.

"I'm applying to four different colleges. I'm sure I'll get into all of them because Daddy has connections," Caroline says proudly.

Again, he can't think of anything to say, so he just nods.

"How old are you, William?" Charles asks.

"I turn eighteen next month," he replies.

"Oh! You're older than Charles! We'll be in the same grade," Caroline exclaims, clapping her hands together excitedly.

"Lucky him," Charles mutters sarcastically.

Caroline ignores his obvious jab. "Do you plan on going straight into your father's business after you graduate, William?"

"No. I'll go to university first." It's what his mother had always told him to do.

"It's so wonderful to finally be interacting with people with _futures_," Caroline says importantly. "All summer, Charles has been hanging around trailer trash."

"They're not trailer trash, Caroline," Charles protests weakly.

"They're not our kind of people, Charles. Don't think I don't know about you and Jane Bennet." Caroline's sharp green eyes narrow when she looks at her brother.

Charles blushes. "There's nothing going on with Jane and I."

"Let's keep it that way." Suddenly, Caroline's phone rings, and she takes one look at the caller ID before rushing out of the room without another word or apology.

"Sorry about her," Charles mumbles.

William shrugs.

"Jane isn't really trailer trash," Charles tells him quietly. "Really."

The way he says it makes William uncomfortable. It's like Charles is pleading with him to believe that this Jane isn't trailer trash, as if he _needs_ William to know this.

"I believe you," William says carefully.

Charles relaxes. "We can all hang out soon. She's wonderful."

"Does she go to our school?"

"No," Charles looks away. "Her sister does though."

William doesn't understand this, but he doesn't care enough to ask.

Eventually, Charles asks William if he wants to play video games, and though William is no good at video games, he's even worse at conversing, so he agrees.

* * *

It rains again the next day when William is walking home from the park. He's not sure what compelled him to leave the house in the first place, but he wishes he hadn't.

There's no possible way to walk in the rain with dignity, so William doesn't try. He runs as fast as his long legs can carry him, with his arms uselessly covering his head, and though it is only lightly showering, William feels as though his clothes are getting soaked.

The sound of rain suddenly changes, and he can't feel the drops on his skin anymore. With a harsh intake of breath, he realizes there's a girl beside him, and she's holding an umbrella over both of them.

The umbrella is pink, and not big enough to cover both of them successfully, so it's mostly her under it, not that one would even be able to tell because she's wetter than he is. William realizes quickly that it's Rainstorm Girl, and he is so shocked by her presence that he stops. She stops too, when she realizes that he has, a look of confusion on her face.

"What are you doing?" he demands, forgetting about the rain as he takes in her appearance.

Her features arrange themselves into a frown. "I figured you could use some help in the form of an umbrella."

"You could have said something."

"You looked like you were in a hurry." She shrugs and pushes some of her hair out of her face and tucks it behind her ear.

"So?"

"So." She rolls her eyes and hands him her umbrella, still open. "I figured you might appreciate just having someone give you an umbrella. I was trying to hand it to you before you stopped."

He doesn't take it. It's useless to him now anyway; he's soaking wet. "You don't even know me."

"That doesn't change the fact that you seemed like you needed an umbrella, and I had one to spare." She says this slowly, as if he wouldn't understand it any other way. It offends him.

"Well, I don't need it. This is your only one anyway." William has no way of knowing this, of course.

"I don't need it." The girl uses the umbrella to gently poke his shoulder.

"It doesn't matter now." He pushes the umbrella back to her. There's no way he can be seen using a _pink_ umbrella.

Now she looks offended, but shrugs again and closes the umbrella. "Fine."

William decides that she's not very pretty. Her face has too many freckles, and her ears are much too big. Her blue eyes are too light, especially against the dark of her eyelashes that are too long. He picks up his feet and begins to walk to his house.

Without encouragement, she falls in step with him. "Not in a rush to get home anymore?"

"I'm quite soaked now, so there's hardly any point in exerting effort to get home, now is there?"

"That's only because you refused my umbrella." She twirls said umbrella in front of them, forcing him to keep his steps timed with hers so that he doesn't get hit by it.

"It was unnecessary."

"_You're _unnecessary."

"I beg your pardon?" He spares her a sidelong glance.

She blushes. "Sorry. Habit comeback."

He has nothing to say to that, so they walk in silence until she breaks it.

"How old are you?" she asks.

"Why?" He suddenly wishes he had just taken her umbrella and gone home. Then he wouldn't have had to speak with her.

"Because I want to know."

He hates that answer. "Well, obviously. Why else would you have asked the question?"

"To annoy you, obviously."

William glances at her from the corner of his eye and sees that she's smirking. "It's working."

"I'm actually just wondering why you talk like you're from an old British movie."

"English," he corrects.

"Same difference."

"It's not, actually."

"Just answer the question, Will."

He stops. "What did you call me?"

"Will?"

He might have sputtered at her, judging from her laughing, but William knows a Darcy isn't capable of _sputtering_.

"Charlie told me he met you." She uses her free hand to push wet hair out of her face again as she briefly makes eye contact with him. "Which involved telling me your name."

It takes a moment to register that she means Charles Bingley. "How do you know Charles?"

"He hangs out with my sister sometimes."

"That's a very vague answer," he astutely observes as he begins walking again.

"Well, you still haven't told me how old you are."

"Seventeen," he says, mostly just with hope that she'll accept the answer and stop talking.

"Why do you talk like you're seventy?"

His mouth drops open. He's never been spoken to like this before. "I'm William Darcy."

The lack of recognition in her face surprises him. "I know. Charlie told me. Did you just miss that part?"

"Did he tell you that my dad owns Darcy Investment-"

"Oh," she smiles knowingly. "You're one of _those_ people."

"Yes, that's right," he replies, happy that she's getting it through her head finally. "I'm a Darcy, and I think you should keep that in mind before you-"

"I meant," she cuts him off again. "That you're one of those _people_ who defines themselves by their parents' accomplishments."

He frowns. "So?"

"So, nothing. I was just making an observation." She shrugs and speeds up her walking.

He catches up effortlessly. "I don't think I like the tone you're using."

"Do you expect me to change it for you?" She's smiling at him, but it's not in any way that could be considered friendly.

"Do you even know what Darcy In-"

"No," she replies. "I'm sure I couldn't afford it anyway."

"That's nothing to brag about!" Annoyance is quickly turning into exasperation.

"Are you getting bent out of shape because I said you talk like you're seventy or because I said I don't care what your dad does?"

William's jaw drops. "Both!"

She grins. "My apologies. You don't talk like you're seventy, and I'm sure you dad does very important things."

He's not appeased by her apology at all, but he knows that was not the purpose of it anyway. They are standing in front of his house now, but he's not ready to give her the last word.

"I don't need your apologies."

"Well, you seem so offended that I figured I had to offer you something." She bats her eyelashes at him and tosses her wet hair over one shoulder in a way that is not at all appealing.

"Stop it," he orders, glaring at her.

"Stop what?"

"Speaking to me like this."

She pulls a face. Her freckle-covered nose wrinkles, and her eyes narrow. "What are you? My father?"

"Are you always this disrespectful?"

"Only to people who really deserve it." Her blue eyes are wide with false innocence, and it's driving him crazy.

"Are you saying I deserve it?"

Her frown dissolves into a grin. "No, _you're_ saying it."

William is at a loss for what to say. He can feel his mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

"Anyway," she says, looking entirely too satisfied with herself. "This is you, isn't it?" She nods her head towards his house. "I guess I'll see you around, Will."

She's gone before he thinks to tell her that he hates being called Will, and he's left feeling small and drenched.


	2. All The Lonely People

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Two: All The Lonely People**

_Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from her grave__  
No one was saved  
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?  
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?_

- The Beatles, _Eleanor Rigby _

_

* * *

_

Charles Bingley knocks on his door to say hi and invite him to play video games again.

"I promise my sister won't be there." Charles offers him an apologetic smile.

William quickly goes through a list of things he has to do today. It's a short list; the top two things are eating and sleeping, which he's done plenty of. "Sure."

He follows Charles across the street and into his house.

"It gets pretty boring around here," Charles says as he unrolls the cords around the controllers.

"I've noticed."

"There's a park a few minutes from here. You should take your sister there."

William accepts one of the controllers from Charles's outstretched hand.

"What game do you want to play?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm rubbish at all of them."

Charles laughs. "What did you do for fun in England?"

William honestly can't recall, at least not without thinking of his mother. His life didn't revolve around his mother, but he also hadn't realized just how big a part of his life she really was. Just how big a hole she'd leave.

"What's that game there?"

Charles's eyes follow William's finger. "Call of Duty?"

That sounds annoyingly ominous, so William shakes his head. "The one behind it."

"Assassin's Creed?"

"Yes. That's fine."

Charles gives him an odd look, which he ignores, focusing on the relief he feels that he successfully averted the subject of England.

"I don't think I've played this yet, actually." Charles opens the case and puts the disk in the console. "My mom got it for me last time I saw her."

William doesn't comment.

"That's why Caroline was in Paris. She was visiting my mom." Charles grabs the remote and starts pressing various buttons as he takes a seat next to William on the couch.

William waits eagerly as the game loads, hoping the game will distract Charles from the topic of families.

"How come you're here if your dad works in England?"

He's about ready to scream in frustration. "My father's been working on opening an American branch." That was the simple answer.

"But the main branch is in England?" Charlie presses, eyes on the screen, changing some settings with his controller.

"Yes."

"Shouldn't your dad work there then?"

_Yes_, William wants to reply. Instead, he simply answers, "My father's skills are needed here. My uncle is running the London branch right now."

"Is your mom in London too?"

"Yes." William says this without thinking, and he bites his tongue trying to take them back.

Charles nods. "Having divorced parents sucks."

His throat closes, and all William can do is nod as well. Charles had asked if his mother was in London, not if she was_ living_ in London. It's not really a lie, and, really, so what if it is? What did truths and lies matter when the one person who actually cared about the difference was dead? It's easier this way. He can be the boy with divorced parents, instead of the person without a mother.

* * *

Charles invites him over to play video games every day that week. Though William tries not to, he finds himself kind of enjoying his time with Charles a little bit. He gets better at shooting virtual people, but he still doesn't like talking, which he discovers is fine because Charles is tolerant of that.

Sometimes Charles gushes about Jane, sometimes he rants about Caroline, sometimes he shouts when William shoots him, but Charles seems to have picked up on the fact that William doesn't enjoy answering questions.

Charles runs out of ammo, and groans. "I think you tricked me."

"Excuse me?"

"You pretended to suck at video games when we first started playing, then I let my guard down, and now you're killing me."

William's lips lift upwards without the usual effort he has to put into it. "Or maybe you're just bad at video games."

"I'm not that bad!"

His lips form what may very well be a sincere smile. It's probably the first one he's given anyone other than his sister since he moved to America.

"Jane's coming back from vacation tomorrow." Charles says after a few minutes as the new game is starting.

William wonders how long he's been waiting to say that.

"She was with her aunt and uncle for a few days."

William takes two shots at Charles. He's beginning to think that Charles is not bad at video games, really. It's just that his attention is usually split between having a rather one-sided conversation and trying to focus on the television screen. He would probably let Charles know this, but he, quite frankly, enjoys winning. William takes another shot.

"We were all going to hang out tomorrow, but my dad's making me and Caroline go with him to – oh, shit! You just took three shots at me when I wasn't paying attention! That's how you win."

"It's not my fault you're not paying attention, Charles."

"Yeah, yeah." Charles takes two shots at him, but it's a waste of ammo because he misses.

They play another round where he wins again.

Charles tosses his controller on the ground. "I give up. You'll have to play Lizzy. She's brutal like you are."

"Who's Lizzy?"

"Jane's sister. You've met her haven't you?"

"I don't think so." William doesn't know when he would have met this Lizzy. The only people he's met are Charles, Caroline, and Rainstorm Girl.

He wonders if he should ask Charles about Rainstorm Girl. William can't deny that he's a little bit curious about her. No one has ever spoken to him the way she has, and he's never seen anyone act the way she does – playing in the rain, offering a stranger her umbrella, hanging out alone in the park – it's not normal. She can't be normal.

William knows Charles knows her, since she mentioned him. He wonders if they're friends. He can't imagine Charles being friends with someone like her, but then again, Charles had friendly demeanor and easy smile that probably made it easy for him to befriend anyone.

He decides against asking though, when he realizes he doesn't know how he would describe her to Charles. He couldn't very well call her Rainstorm Girl to Charles. What else could he say? Do you know a girl with dark brown hair, big blue eyes, and what seemed to be a strange fondness for rainstorms?

* * *

"Will you push me on the swings when we get to the park, William?" Georgiana asks him as the park comes in sight.

"Of course. Will you push me?" He rather likes this, the sun, the blue sky, the cool breeze, the walk that takes him towards the park and away from that empty house. It's nice.

"You're too big for me to push!" Her hand tugs his much bigger one as she giggles. "I could try though."

"That's really nice of you, Gee." William squeezes her hand affectionately.

"Will you push me as high as Mum did?"

His throat constricts. "I can try."

"All you can do is try," she says, parroting what their mother always told them.

William sighs, suddenly very glad they've reached the park so this conversation can end.

"All the swings are taken, William," Gee announces sadly.

Three of the swings are taken by small children, and the last is taken by the wretched girl that he met in the rain. She is sitting on the swing, looking a little dejected. Her eyes meet his when she hears his sister's voice. Then, she looks to his left, where Gee is standing, and smiles.

"You can have mine," she says, standing to offer the swing.

"Really?" Gee asks excitedly.

The girl offers Gee a tight smile. "Of course."

"Thank you!" She runs to the vacated swing and immediately starts to pump her legs.

"No problem." Rainstorm Girl crosses her arms and slowly walks away.

"Are you going to push me, William?"

"Of course." He moves behind her and gently pushes.

His sister laughs loudly and squeals delightedly. "Higher!"

He pushes harder, and Gee laughs louder.

When she reaches as high as she possibly could go, Georgiana announces that his help is no longer necessary.

He sits down on the bench next to the Rainstorm Girl.

"Is that your sister?" she asks, watching Gee swing.

"Yes." He waits for her to make a sarcastic comment about her, but it doesn't come.

"She's cute. What's her name?"

"Georgiana."

No more words pass between them, and they both just watch his sister pump her legs over and over again. He makes no attempt to continue the conversation and neither does she.

"William! Do you or your friend want a turn?"

He opens his mouth to tell her that Rainstorm Girl is _not_ his friend, but she answers first. "No, thanks. You're much better at it than me."

"That's because you weren't moving your legs before!"

Rainstorm Girl laughs softly next to him and stands up.

"Are you leaving?" Gee asks when she sees Rainstorm Girl start to leave.

"Yeah, I think so." The sun is in her eyes from where she's standing and she has to squint to look at his sister.

Gee loses some momentum when she straightens her legs. "Because I took your swing?"

"No," Rainstorm Girl is quick to reassure her. "I just think I should go."

"Are you sure?" Her face looks skeptical.

"I am." She pushes hair behind her ear. "Enjoy the swing, okay?"

"Don't go." Gee's feet are grazing the ground now. "Push me!"

"Your brother can push you."

"I want _you_ to push me."

Rainstorm Girl looks at him, her light blue eyes full of uncertainty. When he shrugs, she walks behind his sister and starts pushing her.

* * *

He learns that Rainstorm Girl's name is Lizzy Bennet, and she lives across the stream. He listens as she tells his sister about the neighborhood and assures Gee that she'll make friends at her new school. She also tells overdramatic stories in strange voices that make Gee's eyes shine brightly with glee.

William hasn't seen his sister laugh this hard around anyone except him and their mother, so he decides that Rainstorm Girl – Lizzy – isn't as awful as he originally thought.

She's still weird though. Who dances and cartwheels in the rain and walks around with an umbrella she won't use?

* * *

The school requires a face-to-face meeting with the headmaster to register students, so William is forced to put on crisp, black trousers and a starched white shirt for the meeting. The shoes he's wearing are a tad too small for him, but complaining would lead to a shopping trip, and he hates shopping trips.

He sits in the office, nearly bored to tears as his father and the headmaster recount their years in college. William is not even sure how this conversation started, but he hopes it will end soon.

"Those were some good times," the headmaster, Mr. Cunningham, says with a chuckle.

His father nods in agreement, a smile playing at his lips.

"Can we talk about my classes?" William asks quietly.

He can feel his father's eyes on him, but William keeps his on Mr. Cunningham. He's learned it's best not to look at his father in situations like this. There were only two possible outcomes here: pride or anger. William was hoping for the former, but he stared at the headmaster in case it was the latter.

"Yes, William's right. We really have gotten off track, haven't we?" his father says.

William doesn't realize he had been holding his breath in anticipation of his father's reaction until he lets it out audibly.

"Terribly sorry," Mr. Cunningham says, though he hardly sounds like it. He glances down at some papers in front of him quickly. "William has an excellent academic record."

_As if anything else would have been accepted_, William thinks to himself bitterly.

"We accept nothing less from him," his father says predictably.

William refrains from rolling his eyes. He wonders who _we_ is now. His father and his mother made a _we_. Without his mother, there certainly was no _we._

"Of course." The headmaster hands him a list of electives. "Now, here are the electives we offer. You're allowed one elective. You may choose from any on the list."

With a sigh of resignation, he hands the list to his father without even taking a glance at it, knowing this isn't a choice he's allowed to make.

His father wordlessly accepts the list with a raised eyebrow. "How about a foreign language, William?"

"I already know Spanish, Italian, and German," William mutters.

"They offer French."

"I don't need French," he grits out.

"That's true," his father says, almost to himself. "We rarely do business with the French."

"Art is a pretty popular subject with our students. The school also has a great music program."

Neither of those would work for his father, so William didn't bother saying anything.

His father turns the sheet of paper over, perhaps expecting more choices on the back. He hands William the paper with a furrow in his brow. "Which one would you like, William?"

He takes the paper warily and chooses the first elective his eyes land on. "Creative Writing is fine."

The headmaster makes some notes and takes the sheet back. "Now, William, as a senior, you're required to take English, Economics, Government, and Gym. You also have to take a math and science class, and your father's requested we put you in the highest level of each, which will be Calculus and Physics. All that sound good to you?"

William doubts it matters how it sounds to him. "That's fine."

They discuss school rules and uniforms quickly before his father allows William to wait outside while he signs papers.

As he's closing the door to the office behind him, he spots Lizzy Bennet sitting on a chair with her nose buried in a book. There's a woman next to her who appears to be speaking to her, but Lizzy doesn't seem to be listening. William sits across from them, trying not to eavesdrop as he watches them out of the corner of his eye. The older woman is nothing remarkable. She has brown hair like Lizzy's, though hers has some gray strands, and her lipstick is a bit too red for her complexion. William has never been good at guessing age, so he doesn't try.

"I don't see why you insist on going to this school, Lizzy, dear." Her voice is rather loud, especially considering the fact that she was insulting the school in front of a receptionist and a few feet away from the office of the headmaster.

"Hmm."

"It just seems like you're missing out on a real high school. They don't have a football team, so you don't get to be homecoming queen like Jane or be in the marching band like Mary."

"Mm."

"And you don't even bring any friends home, dear. You only hang out with Charlotte Lucas, who is about to graduate college this year. Who will hang out with you when she graduates and moves out of her parents' place? I'm just worried you're not being socialized here."

"Uh-huh." She turns the page of her book.

"Lizzy, are you even listening to a word I'm saying?"

"Of course."

The woman yanks the book from her hands. "Lizzy!"

Lizzy rolls her eyes. "Mom, I was listening."

"Then what did I just say?"

"Lizzy!" she imitates her mother's shrill voice almost to a tee. "Then you took my book."

"You have no respect for my poor nerves, Lizzy! What did I say before that?"

"Mom, you've said so many other things that I can't remember them all now." Lizzy is smirking.

"Oh, Lizzy. Why do you always have to be like this?"

"I get it from you."

"You do not!"

Lizzy laughs and gives her mother a one armed hug. "Sure I do."

Her mother looks appeased and begins to relax. William expects Lizzy to grab the book from her hands, but she doesn't. She simply leans her back against the chair and begins to swing her legs.

Her eyes finally meet his and she offers him a half-smile. "Hey. I didn't know you go here."

William shrugs. "I'm registering right now."

"Who is your friend, Lizzy?" her mother asks.

"This is Will Darcy," she says. "This is my mom, Fanny Bennet."

William shakes her hand politely. "Hello. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too." Mrs. Bennet smiles widely at him.

"Will just moved in across the street from Charlie," Lizzy tells her mother in a disinterested voice.

Her mother, for her part, seemed interested enough for the both of them. "_Oh_! In Pemberley?"

Lizzy blushes. "Yeah."

Before William can inquire what _Pemberley_ means, his father emerges from the office.

"Ready to go, William?"

"Yes." He stands at the same time Lizzy and her mother stand.

The headmaster sees Lizzy and smiles. "Lizzy, Mrs. Bennet. So good to see you again."

"Hello, Mr. Cunningham," Lizzy replies. She gives William a wave before following the headmaster into his office with her mother.

* * *

"What's Pemberley?" William asks her when sees her walking past his house a few days later.

She looks surprised. "Sorry?"

"At the school. Your mom said something about Pemberley."

"Oh." She smiles. "I like to name things. So I named a lot of the houses on this street. Yours is Pemberley."

"Why?"

Lizzy shrugs. "It was a long time ago. It looked like a Pemberley at the time. You don't have to keep the name."

"You named all the houses?"

"Not all of them. Most of them though." She points to Charles's house. "That's Netherfield."

"Why?"

"It's just a name. There's no reason behind it, really. I was young."

He raises an eyebrow. "You're not young now?"

"Fine. I was _younger_."

"Don't call me Will," he blurts out suddenly.

"What?"

"Will. You introduced me as Will when we were with your mom. Don't call me that."

"What do I call you then?"

"William. That's my name." He doesn't admit that it's actually short for Fitzwilliam.

"William sounds pretentious."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes. It does."

"You're the only one that thinks so."

She smirks. "I'm pretty sure I'm not. I'm probably just the only one that's actually told you to your face."

"There's nothing pretentious about using your given name. Just because you don't go by yours doesn't mean it's pretentious to do so."

"I didn't say it's pretentious to go by your given name. It's just pretentious the way you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on. You say your name like you expect people to fall to your feet when they hear it. Your dad can't be _that _important."

William is affronted. "I do not expect people to fall at my feet."

"Sure you do. I bet you'd ask people to call you _Mr. Darcy_ if you thought you could get away with it." She laughs to herself.

"I would not."

Her blue eyes study him carefully, and she cocks her head to the left. "You take yourself pretty seriously, huh?"

He scoffs. "Because I don't go around using a stupid nickname?"

"No. You just don't seem to smile very much." She smiles then, as if to show him what she means.

He frowns instead, just to spite her. "What's there to smile about?"

"Lots of things, I'm sure."

"Not when I'm around you."

Lizzy laughs. "Don't lie. I bet I'm the most interesting person you've met here."

William won't deny that, but he wouldn't say that is necessarily something to brag about either. "Being interesting has nothing to do with having a reason to smile."

"That's true. You're a smart one, Darcy." She pauses, waiting for him to perhaps react to her statement and smirks when he doesn't. "So I can call you Darcy but not Will?"

"Anything but Will."

"Why not Will?"

"It's not my name."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Darcy sounds better anyway."

"Why do you go to St. Anthony's Academy?" he asks, needing a subject change.

"Why do you?"

"My dad enrolled me."

"Well, my mother enrolled me."

He still winces at the word mother, and he makes a mental note to fix that as soon as possible. "I'm just asking because your mother didn't seem to want you to go." It hurts to say the word mother too, but he tries to arrange his face so that it's not so apparent.

"My mom would prefer that I go to a public school like my sisters."

"Why?" William can't imagine why anyone would choose a public school education over a private one.

"I guess because she worries I'm not happy there."

"Why would she pay for a private school if she doesn't want you to go there?"

"She doesn't pay for it. I'm a scholarship student." Lizzy squares her shoulders, and she raises her chin a fraction of an inch. The movement is subtle, but William notices it. Her face looks as if she's preparing herself for something.

"Oh." He's too busy studying her posture and trying to figure out why it changed so suddenly to really think of much more to say.

"That's all you have to say?" she asks incredulously.

"What else is there to say?" He watches curiously as her eyes narrow with suspicion.

Lizzy doesn't say anything for a moment. It looks as if she's thinking, but then she shrugs, and her shoulders lose their defensiveness. "Nothing, I guess."

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"So you're a junior?" William hopes that's the correct term. The American school system confuses him.

"No, I'm a senior. I skipped a grade."

"Oh." Skipping grades is also a new concept to him, but he doesn't say anything. "So we're in the same grade."

She nods. "What classes are you taking?"

"Calculus, Economics, Government, English, Physics, Gym, Creative Writing."

"I'm in Creative Writing too."

He doesn't reply.

"It should be a pretty fun class. Mr. Lucas is great."

Again, he doesn't say anything. William is actually wondering if coming out of his house to ask about Pemberley was worth having to endure this whole conversation.

"Are you nervous?" she asks after a few minutes of him contemplating going back inside.

"No. Why would I be?"

"I don't know. It's a new school. You're new…" She trails off.

"I'm not."

"That's good. I'm sure everyone will like you anyway." She smiles reassuringly.

William wants to tell her that he doesn't need it, and he doesn't care if people like him, but before he can, Mrs. Reynolds comes out to tell him it's time for piano practice.

"I didn't know you played piano," Lizzy observes, waving politely to the housekeeper.

The older woman waves back. "Hello, dear. What's your name?"

"Lizzy." She offers her hand and the housekeeper shakes it.

"I'm Mrs. Reynolds. Do you live around here?"

"About thirty minutes away on foot."

William realizes that he hadn't known this. "Why are you always here?"

"I'm not." Lizzy gives him a nondescript smirk before walking away.

William decides her stupid answer about Pemberley was _definitely_ not worth the entirety of the conversation.


	3. Drying Up In Conversation

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Three: Drying Up In Conversation**

_Drying up in conversation, you will be the one who cannot talk  
All your insides fall to pieces, you just sit there wishing you could still make love  
They're the ones who'll hate you  
When you think you've got the world all sussed out  
They're the ones who'll spit at you  
You will be the one screaming out_

Radiohead, _High and Dry_

_

* * *

_

His first day of American school comes exactly a month after his mother died.

That's how time flows for William now. His mother existed in another period, another country, another life. That life is over. The warmth and comfort of that life shot up in flames and left him with ashes and America. He wonders what will happen when the ashes blow away. Maybe he'll be left bare and cold. Maybe he won't even feel the cold because he's been numb for four weeks.

He feels eyes on him as he makes his way to his first class, but ignores them. He is the first one in the classroom besides the teacher, who he gives a polite nod to.

"Are you Fitzwilliam Darcy?" the older man asks.

"William," he corrects automatically. He had been hoping the school would be bigger so that he wouldn't be singled out for being new, but that is clearly not the case.

"Okay, William. I'm Mr. Lucas."

"Is there assigned seating?" William asks, glad he is holding books so he has an excuse not to shake hands.

"No. Pick whatever seat you'd like."

He chooses a seat next to the window, near the back. Mr. Lucas doesn't try to make any more conversation with him, and he's glad. William isn't sure how long he sits there, studying the way the bright rays filter in through the glass, opening and closing his palms in an attempt to catch some of the warmth that has eluded him for four weeks.

"Hello, William."

He turns his head at the sound of his name. On his left is Caroline Bingley. Her hair is pulled back in an elegant plait, which is a stark contrast to the dangerously low cut of her white blouse.

"Hi, Caroline."

"I didn't know you were taking this class."

William doesn't know how she would have known that, but he's saved from having to reply when a girl with an equally low neckline and even shorter skirt walks in and catches Caroline's attention.

More and more girls file into the classroom, usually in pairs. They all greet Caroline enthusiastically before taking a seat somewhere near her. William doesn't miss the curious glances they shoot him as they listen to Caroline recount her summer in Paris. He just chooses to ignore them.

The bell rings shrilly moments later, and William is glad because the sooner this day starts, the sooner it'll be over.

"Welcome back. I'm glad you all decided to take Creative Writing with me. I see a lot of familiar faces - "

Suddenly, the door opens, and in walks Lizzy Bennet. Her hair is all over the place, and her uniform is wrinkled. She runs a hand through her mane, in attempt to tame it, but it's useless.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Lucas. I overslept and missed –"

"_Good god_, Lizzy. In order to be fashionably late, you actually have to be _fashionable_."

Many girls giggle at Caroline's jab, and a few girls give Lizzy sympathetic looks.

"I'll give you a dollar if you can _spell _fashionable, Caroline," Lizzy bites back scathingly, looking around for an empty seat. The only one available is the one behind him.

"What on earth would I do with a _dollar_?" Caroline sneers.

"Oh, that's right." Lizzy pulls at the hem of her shirt, perhaps in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles, though her eyes don't leave Caroline's. "Everything you lack – intelligence, decency, compassion – those things can't be purchased with money. Guess you'll just have to live without them."

Lizzy collapses into the seat behind him with a huff and another soft apology to Mr. Lucas, who looks extremely wary. He clears his throat and looks between the two girls nervously, probably wondering why he decided to become a teacher in the first place.

* * *

A few brave students, most of them female, try to talk to him, and he tries to be polite, but the conversations are all the same.

"William Darcy as in Darcy Investment?"

"Yes."

"Did you just move here?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"A month ago."

"Why'd your family leave London?"

"Business."

"How do you like Sausalito?"

"Fine."

"Is California different from London?

"Yes."

"I like your British accent."

"It's English."

"How was your summer?"

"Fine."

The lies and the truths fall from his lips until there's no distinction between the two. He keeps his expression impassive and uncaring, because that's what he is. One by one, they give up, and he's glad because it takes a lot more energy to be polite than to be indifferent.

* * *

Charles sits next to him at lunch. He had been eating by himself for about ten minutes, until from the corner of his eye, he saw Charles leave his group of friends to sit with him. He doesn't understand why.

Sure, they had bonded for a few days over some video games, but he would hardly consider that a friendship, worthy of sitting together at lunch, especially when it seems like Charles has his own friends.

"Hey."

William takes his time chewing his food before he answers. "Hello."

"How's your first day going?" Charles's hands fidget with the straw from his milk carton.

It's another typical question, so, despite the tentative friendship, it gets another typical answer. "Fine."

"I guess this kind of sucks for you, huh?" Charles says this softly, looking around carefully.

This is not a typical question. "What do you mean?" He looks around too, wondering what it is that Charles is looking at or for.

There's a myriad of tables with various cliques at each one. Caroline and her band of followers are at one table; they're all hanging onto every word she says. Lizzy is sitting at a table in the corner, with two boys and a girl, looking quite bored. A few people meet his eyes as they scan the large cafeteria, but none of them hold eye contact for too long, either because he looks away or they do.

"I mean, you just look really bored." How surprisingly keen of Charles to notice.

He shrugs. "School is boring."

"Yeah, no kidding." Charles laughs nervously. "Hey, listen, do you want to go to the park with me, Lizzy, and Jane later?"

"Pardon?" He couldn't have heard Charles correctly.

"The park. Lizzy said you've been there. The one near your house?"

William stares at the other boy. This is beginning to feel more and more like a friendship. It makes William uncomfortable.

"You can meet Jane. She-she's not like the rest of the girls here." Charles ears turn pink, and soon, so does the rest of his face. "Lizzy's pretty cool too. You've met her, right? She told me you guys talked a few times."

He wondered what Lizzy told Charles about him, and what Charles said in return, but he doesn't ask. Instead, "Who else is going?"

"Nobody else, I don't think. Maybe some people from Jane's school, if she invites them. Maybe Lizzy will invite people. I don't know. There's not many people our age in our neighborhood."

"Why are you inviting me?"

"You look like you could use some fun." Charles's green eyes shine with sincerity.

William doesn't know how time at the park will be different from school, but he finds himself agreeing anyway.

* * *

There's assigned seating in government, his last class of the day, and much to his misfortune, there's no one with a last name that starts with a C in the class, so he's stuck between Lizzy Bennet and Connor Dodges. It wouldn't be so awful if it weren't for the fact that Connor constantly tries to whisper things to Lizzy, who seems to be trying her very best to ignore him. Rather than deter him, it seems to do the exact opposite and his whispers became louder and louder, until they aren't really whispers at all.

"Come on, Lizzy. Talk to me!"

"You can't ignore me forever, Lizzy!"

"Damn it, Lizzy. If you don't -"

"Mr. Dodges," the teacher, Mrs. Lane, finally interrupts the whispering that hadn't actually been whispering at all since the entire class could hear him. "If you don't stop disrupting Miss Bennet and the rest of the class, and start paying attention, I'll have to give you more than a warning."

"Sorry, Mrs. Lane." Connor's voice is soft against the backdrop of snickers.

William can hear Lizzy give a sigh of relief. He steals a glance at her notebook and sees that she hadn't actually been paying attention either. Her page is filled with a lifelike pencil drawing of their teacher.

She's giving Mrs. Lane what looks like a speech bubble, and fills it with the words, "Connor Dodges is an idiot and if he doesn't leave Lizzy Bennet alone, he'll get more than a damn warning."

Almost against his own will, William gives a quiet snort, though it's more from surprise than amusement. No one notices except Lizzy, who meets his gaze and searches his face for something. Whatever it is she's looking for, she seems to find because she gives him a small smile before returning to her drawing.

William stares at his own blank page for a while. He should be paying attention, he knows, since the American government is not like the English one, and he can't rely on his prior knowledge in this class like he can in Calculus and Physics, but it's the last class of the day, and William is honestly just ready to be done with it.

There's a nudge on his shoulder, and William turns to Lizzy, who is holding out a folded piece of paper for him under the desks. In her messy scrawl, the name Connor is written on it, and he surmises that he's supposed to pass this note to Connor. He glances at her notebook to see she's torn out the picture she's been working on all class period. He's guessing that the picture is now the folded piece of paper being offered to him, but William sees no benefit in being the messenger.

He turns his head back to the front of the classroom, unwilling to partake in her little game.

* * *

"You wouldn't have gotten in trouble, you know," Lizzy tells him as they wait for Charles and her sister at the park. "If Mrs. Lane had caught you, it would have been me that got in trouble."

William is beginning to regret getting here on time, especially since Charles and Jane are late and it means talking to Lizzy about his refusal to pass her stupid note. "It wasn't about that."

"What's it about, then?" Her knees are pulled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them and her chin resting on them. She's looking at him with her eyes that he can't stop staring into.

He blinks three times, but still can't look away. "I didn't want to pass the damn note."

Lizzy blinks too, obviously surprised at his harsh tone. "Why not?"

"Because it didn't involve me."

"Well, duh. If it involved you, it would have been written to you or addressed to you." He had been hoping his dark mood would have a negative effect on her chipper one, but it doesn't happen.

"Yes, exactly. So why should I have to do the dirty work?"

Her eyes seem to actually be dancing with _delight_. "I hardly think passing a note is dirty work."

"I'm not going to be your messenger, and you'd do well to remember that."

She lets out a soft little laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"Excuse me?"

"I said that you're ridiculous."

"Why?" _He's_ ridiculous? _She's _the one that seems hell bent on being ridiculous.

"You're not even trying to make friends."

William narrows his eyes. "I'm _here_, aren't I?"

She looks taken aback, and, fortunately, that quiets her, at least for a little while. Lizzy sits with her hands picking blades of grass with a small, secretive smile.

"So how do you like creative writing so far?" She asks him after a few minutes. It's an obvious attempt to break the uncomfortable silence, and perhaps even a peace offering. He doesn't much care for silence or peace offerings, but he hates small talk even more than both of them combined.

Still though, she's staring at him imploringly with her soft blue eyes, and there's a gnawing in the pit of his stomach from looking into them, and it won't go away until he answers her. "Nothing interesting really happened today."

The corners of her lips quirk up. "I guess that's true. Mr. Lucas is really great though. I had him last year for English. Plus, he's my friend's dad, so I see him a lot outside of school."

That doesn't really need an answer, and he's grateful they can just sit quietly now.

"Where's your sister?"

_Or not._ He exhales slowly through gritted teeth. "She has piano lessons."

"Does everyone in your family play piano?"

"Yes."

"Are your parents really into music or something?" Lizzy stretches her legs out in front of her and leans back on her hands.

"It's just a parlor trick, really."

"How do you mean?"

"You know, just to impress my par-" he stops himself abruptly, realizing his slip and hastily covers it. "My father's clients."

"Oh, _really_?" She raises a delicate eyebrow at him, and he pretends not to notice.

"Hey guys!"

They both turn their heads at the sound of the voice to see Charles Bingley jogging up to them. William decides he's never liked the other boy more than he does now. He'll have to think of some way to thank Charles for saving him from what could have been an awkward conversation.

"Hi, Charlie. Jane's not here yet. My mom's got her meeting one of her coworkers' sons."

Charles's face doesn't look happy at this news, but Lizzy is quick to reassure him.

"Don't worry. He's got nothing on you."

"Don't know what you're talking about, Lizzy." Charles grins.

Lizzy rolls her eyes at him, but says nothing in reply.

"Why doesn't your mum have you meeting people too?" William asks curiously.

"Probably because I don't know enough parlor tricks to impress them with." It's a vague answer, and her shoulders hold a lot more tension than they had seconds ago. He wonders if perhaps he's not the only one with something to hide.

"What's that?"

Lizzy leans back further on her elbows and turns to Charles. "Nothing. Darcy and I were just talking about parlor tricks. You got any?"

Charles laughs, something that William is beginning to understand he does a lot, whether things are actually funny or not. "Parlor tricks?"

"You know." Her eyes flicker to his briefly. "Stuff parents – or maybe just _dads_ – teach their kids to impress their clients."

William stares at Lizzy, not sure what to make of what she just said. Had she noticed his slip? Was she teasing him? Or mocking him? He catches a smirk on her lips.

"Oh, I dunno. I'm pretty good at chess."

Lizzy's smirk smoothes into a smile for Charles. "I hear Jane beat you."

"She lies."

"My darling sister never lies." Her eyes narrow.

"Alright, Lizzy. You caught me. I let your sister win _once_."

"Oh, now _you're_ lying."

"I would never lie. By the way, you're looking very lovely today, Elizabeth."

Lizzy throws her head back and laughs. Hers is different from Charles's. She does it wildly, genuinely, and with abandon. "You are quite a charmer, Mr. Bingley."

"I'm afraid I only have eyes for women who can beat me at chess, Miss Bennet."

"Good." Her eyes shine brightly and she looks pleased, though William isn't sure why. He doesn't understand this girl at all.

William looks away from what's clearly going to be a conversation of inside jokes between friends, one that he would have no part in.

A tall blonde girl is walking toward them, and he can't help but stare. Her long hair falls on her shoulders in cascading waves and frames her heart-shaped face perfectly. She's not looking at him, but in his general direction. Out of the corner of his eye, William sees Charles and Lizzy watching her too.

"Well, that was quick," Lizzy calls loudly as she moves into a sitting position.

"What can I say? I was eager to see you."

"Hi, Jane." Charles blushes and stands to give her a hug that William notices lingers too long. Caroline's words about Jane and trailer trash come flashing back to him, and he can't help but think it might be out of jealousy.

"Hi." There's a flush on her cheeks, and she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear as she sits down in the spot between Charles and Lizzy. Her gray eyes meet his for the first time, and she gives him a hesitant smile. "Hey. I'm Jane Bennet."

"William Darcy." Jane is probably the prettiest girl he's met since arriving in America. Even prettier than Caroline, he decides.

"Nice to meet you. You go to school with Lizzy and Charlie?"

He watches Charles take her hand in his larger one. "Yeah."

"I'm the only one left out, then."

"Shall we throw you a pity party now?" Lizzy teases, bumping her shoulder to her sister's.

"I think we wasted all of the party supplies on your pity party a while ago, actually," Jane replies with a smile.

Lizzy throws some shredded grass at Jane. "Always blaming the younger sister. How was school?"

"It was fine. It's strange that it's my last year though."

"I know what you mean," Charles says. Then he colors. "I mean, I don't really, since it's not _my_ last year, but Caroline just keeps going on and on about how this is her last year, and it's important to make it count."

Jane nods. "How was your first day, William?"

"Fine."

"What classes are you taking?"

"Just the usual requirements and Creative Writing."

"Oh, really? With Caroline?" Charles asks.

William nods. "And Lizzy."

She looks at him at the sound of her name. It looked like she had zoned out for a second, but she quickly recovers. "It's going to be a blast. You know how I love Caroline."

"How is Caroline?" Jane asks Charlie, either missing her sister's sarcasm or ignoring it.

"Oh, she's fine. Ever since she came back from Paris she's been asking our dad to make a few changes to the house to make it more French."

"Did she have a good time in Paris?"

"Yeah. She keeps talking about wanting to go back, either to study abroad in France when she's in college or just moving there completely."

"That'd be a good place to go for fashion."

"That's what she keeps telling my dad, but he's still not completely convinced." A pause. "Have you given any thought to what colleges you're applying to yet?"

"Lizzy and I have looked at a few close to home, you know, so we can be here to help my mom."

William studies Lizzy as the conversation continues. She's not looking at her sister or Charles, but off in the distance, her eyes far away.

"That's really nice. I have to tell you that…I'd like it if you stayed close too."

"It all depends on what colleges will accept me, of course, and, you know, what I can afford."

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Who wouldn't want you? Er, at their college, I mean."

Lizzy notices him looking at her, and he averts his eyes quickly.

"That's…very kind of you to say, Charlie."

William feels warm fingers on the back of his hand and looks at the source.

Lizzy is grinning at him. "Hey, want to see something?"

He raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Let's leave the lovebirds alone."

"Okay." William starts to stand as she does.

"Where are you guys going?" Charles asks.

"Just off near the swings. We'll still be able to see you, so don't try any funny stuff, Charles Bingley."

Both Charles and Jane blush, and William is beginning to think that Lizzy just likes to make people uncomfortable, especially when she laughs at the sight of their flushed faces.

He falls in step with her, not even sure why he agreed to go. After about twenty yards, Lizzy grabs his hand and pulls him behind some thick bushes.

William stops suddenly, wondering why she's got her hand on him. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

She gives him a confused look and drops his hand. "You were walking straight, and we needed to go this way."

"Why? What on earth are you showing me?"

"Just a few more steps." She starts walking again without looking back to see if he's following.

They pass a few more bushes and trees before Lizzy finally stops and sits against the trunk of one. William remains standing, unsure of what it is she's showing him.

"Look." Lizzy points at a small collection of twigs and dirt on the ground near her scuffed shoes.

"What?"

"It's a bird's nest."

He squints, but doesn't see anything. "How can you be so sure?"

She meets his eyes with her incredulous blue ones. "Because there are eggs?"

Finally, he squats to have a closer look at where her finger is pointing. It's a tiny cup shaped nest, the diameter no larger than the length of his thumb and inside, are two white, pea-sized eggs.

"I could hardly be expected to see _that_," he says in his defense.

The corner of Lizzy's lips turn upward slightly. "I guess not." She sighs. "I'm pretty sure they're hummingbird eggs."

"Aren't they a bit small for bird eggs? They could just be moth eggs or something."

Lizzy scowls at him. "Hummingbirds _are _small. Besides, don't moths lay more than two eggs? I'm almost sure these are hummingbird eggs. "

"I can't see anything that small surviving. Especially without a mother." Especially since he was so much bigger than these eggs and didn't feel like he could survive without one.

"They won't hatch without a mother." Lizzy concedes.

"Where's the mother?"

"I don't know. I found the nest a few days ago, and was hoping to come back and find the bird sitting on her eggs, but…" She trails off, biting her lip and staring at the nest.

"She's probably dead." He says this without thinking.

Her scowl deepens and she purses her lips. Her throat moves as she swallows audibly. "Or she could be out somewhere."

"Well, if she is around, I don't think she's going to come when you're sitting here."

"That's true. I just hope she didn't die or something. I think the nest fell from the branches, since Hummingbirds don't typically lay their nests on the ground."

"This is what you wanted to show me?"

She nods and meets his eyes briefly. "It's kind of neat, right?"

He watches her hand reach out as if to touch the eggs, but it stops in midair. Her face is a mixture of amazement, curiosity, and sadness. "Yes. I suppose it is."

Lizzy stands up and brushes herself off. "Do you want to go back now?"

"Alright." He stands too, doing the same.

As they're just moving out of the bushes, William asks, "How did you find it?"

"The nest?"

He nods.

"I was looking for some new things to draw."

"You draw?"

"Yeah. Remember that note you wouldn't pass?"

"Oh." Right. How could he forget?

"Do you?"

"No. My mum used to." He realizes his slip up way too late.

Lizzy looks up at him with curious eyes. "Used to?"

"Yeah."

She stares at him, waiting for an elaboration, but he doesn't give it to her.

Finally, her eyes fill with understanding and she nods.


	4. Sum of All Your Parts

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Four: Sum of All Your Parts**

_Someone else's boy, you've had it so hard,  
Will you grow up to be you,  
Or a sum of your parts just hanging in the air?  
Someone else's boy, tell me your convoluted stories through half-rotten mouth_

- Azure Ray, _Beautiful Things Can Come From The Dark_

_

* * *

_

"Our topic today will be loss," Mr. Lucas announces.

Lizzy, who is sitting in front of him today, leans forward. Her hair is still a bit wet, and he can see the marks the water left on her white blouse, which is much less wrinkled today. She smells like citrus and some kind of flower that he doesn't recognize. William can't decide if it's her shampoo or some kind of perfume.

"Let's talk about loss."

"What about it?" a boy asks.

"That's what I want you to tell me. What it means to you, your experience with it, etcetera. Who wants to start?"

"What if we've never had any experience with it?" Caroline is slouching in her chair with her arms crossed. There's a look on her face that clearly tells the room what she thinks of this assignment.

"Yeah," a girl says, mimicking Caroline's posture. "Some of us have never lost anything."

"That's unfortunate," Lizzy mutters.

"Unfortunate?" Caroline laughs. "You think it's unfortunate that we've never lost things?"

Lizzy turns in her seat, her blue eyes bright with something William can't recognize.

"If you've never lost something, then you probably don't know what it's like to cherish something either," Lizzy explains calmly.

People shift in their seats.

"Everyone's experienced loss, Caroline," Mr. Lucas says, obviously sensing a need to intervene.

"Do we have to talk about losing a tangible thing?" someone asks. "What about losing a game?"

Mr. Lucas nods, smiling. "We can talk about that."

"Losing sucks," a girl says eloquently.

"Yeah, it does," a boy agrees.

"I lost a shoe once," Caroline's clone says, apparently eager to join the discussion. "I'm, like, super organized when it comes to shoes. Then one day, my favorite purple Jimmy Choo that Daddy bought me for Christmas just disappeared. It was so tragic."

"How did you ever get through it?" Lizzy bites out sarcastically.

"Well, Daddy tried to buy me a new pair, but they were completely sold out. Eventually I just had to get through it." She glances at Caroline with a look on her face that makes it clear she's debating something in her mind. She's probably wondering how much her popularity stock will decrease if she continues. Then, "That's when I learned that there are some things money can't buy, I guess."

"Thank you for sharing that with us, Annabelle," Mr. Lucas says, though it looks like he's fighting to keep a straight face.

"I thought this was supposed to be a _writing_ class." Caroline is obviously tired of a conversation that she isn't the center of. "All we're doing is sitting around _whining_."

"We'll get to the writing, Caroline. We're discussing thoughts right now, and eventually we'll get them down on paper. Now, does anyone else want to talk about loss? It doesn't have to be an experience. It can just be a definition."

"Your definition of loss probably depends on your experience with it," Lizzy volunteers softly.

Mr. Lucas gives her a long stare. "Care to elaborate, Lizzy?"

"Well, I guess I meant that…I think loss has varying degrees of tragedy, depending on what you've lost."

"That's true," Connor Dodges from his government class agrees, smiling at Lizzy. "Losing a shoe is different from losing a game."

Caroline snorts. "Please, Connor. Annabelle's shoe was worth way more than your stupid tennis match."

Connor turns around to glare at Caroline. "Says Princess I've Never Lost A Thing."

"I know a certain _card_ Caroline's lost," another boy laughs.

A few girls gasp with indignation, and Caroline looks ready to pounce.

"It starts with the letter V and I don't mean her precious Visa-"

"I swear to God, Jeremy Cunningham, if you don't shut your _fucking_ mouth-"

"Caroline, Jeremy. See me after class." Mr. Lucas is obviously not happy about the direction of this discussion. "Anyone else want to share something about loss?"

"Everything can be lost," a girl in front of Lizzy says in a voice that's barely above a whisper. "You think you'll never lose some things, that some things are yours forever, but they're not."

"Do you consider something lost if it's taken from you?" someone asks.

"Or if the thing you lost just leaves you?" another adds. "Or if you give it to someone?"

"Well, if you gave something to someone, then you didn't lose it. You gave it away."

William doesn't know how long he can sit in this classroom listening to people talk about loss like they know what it means. None of them have any idea what it means to _lose_ someone.

"I guess that depends on your definition of loss," Mr. Lucas says. "Let's talk about your assignment." He rubs his hands together with a smile. "We've got about twenty minutes of class left, and that's a good amount of time to do some brainstorming."

"What's the assignment? Just write about loss?" Connor asks.

"Yep, just a short essay-" There's a collective groan at the word. "About loss."

Caroline scoffs. "What about those of us that haven't experienced loss? Are we excused from this assignment?"

"No," Mr. Lucas says. "Nice try though, Caroline. Everyone has some opinion on loss, and yours is that you haven't experienced it yet. You can write about that."

"How long does it have to be?" the girl in front of Lizzy asks in her quiet voice.

"A page to two pages." This is met with another, louder, series of groans.

"I thought you were going to teach us _how_ to write," someone from the back grumbles. "I haven't learned anything yet."

"I can't teach you creativity."

"Then what's the point of this class?" he demands.

"You get out of it what you put in. I can give you guidance and direction, like I said the first day, but I want this class to be about you."

William sighs. He is beginning to regret choosing this over French.

* * *

Charles sits with him at lunch again.

"So, did you like Jane?"

"Sure." William watches Charles smile, wondering why on earth he feels the need for his approval anyway.

"Yeah, she's really great, isn't she?"

William gives a curt nod in response.

"She's an absolute angel."

Another nod.

"Sorry," Charles laughs nervously to himself. "I'm gushing about her, aren't I?"

"Just a tad," William answers sarcastically.

"I'm sorry. It's just…I feel so strongly for her, William, and it's not just because she's pretty. I know she is. I mean, everyone who even looks at her knows she's pretty. It's not just that. She's kind, you know? She's _good_. She's such a good person."

William says nothing. Charles is tolerant of his silence, so he supposes that he can put up with this for a bit. It's no different from the days in the summer at Charles's house in front of the television. He doesn't have anything to say anyway.

* * *

Lizzy, unlike Charles, refuses to let him just sit there and say nothing. When the bell rings signaling the end of the day, she walks with him from Government to the place where they're supposed to wait for people to pick them up.

"Is the government system here different from the one in England?" She stares at him until he feels her eyes burning into his skin.

"Yes," is his curt answer.

He notices people watching them curiously as they walk. They're mostly younger students, since the older ones all have cars that they take to and from school. The girls have identical expressions of envy on their faces. It's an emotion he recognizes easily, having been on the receiving end of it for most of his life, but this time their focus is on Lizzy. They were probably are all wondering how someone like _her_ got to be talking to someone like _him_. He's been wondering that himself. The only answer he can come up with is that she's very persistent and difficult to get rid of.

"So, how was your day?"

"Fine." William watches as she pulls sunglasses from her old backpack and puts them over her eyes. He hopes this will make it easier to ignore her, now that he can't see her eyes.

"Just fine?"

"Yes."

"Who's picking you up?"

He stops at a vacant spot, far away from the other students. "My dad's driver."

Lizzy stops too, of course. "How come you don't have your own driver?"

"One is enough for the three of us."

"Just three of you?"

"Yes." He's so distracted by the sheer number of questions she's throwing at him that he doesn't realize his mistake until it's too late.

"So it's what, just you, your dad, and sister? Where's your mom?"

William opens his mouth to lie about the whereabouts of his mother. Perhaps feed her the whole divorced thing, to keep the story consistent, but then Lizzy pushes her sunglasses on top of her head and _stares_ at him.

His mouth stays open for several thumping heartbeats, and finally he tears his eyes away from hers. "Look, don't you have any other friends you could be talking to?"

There's a pause, and an uncomfortable tightness settles in William's chest that makes him realizes that he's not even _breathing_ as he waits for her reply.

Her blue eyes are calculating, but then she looks away, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Do _you_?"

The only answer he gives her is a very relieved exhale, leaving them standing in silence for a few glorious moments.

"So what are you going to write your loss paper about?"

"That's kind of a personal question, isn't it?" Truthfully, this question is nowhere near as personal as the one about his mother had been.

Lizzy pulls her sunglasses back over her eyes. "Everyone's going to have to share anyway."

William mentally goes through the syllabus in his head as quickly as he can, quite sure she is wrong. It takes him a minute, but he remembers. "We don't have to share every essay. It's just a few."

Lizzy is silent for a minute, but then she pulls a green folder from her backpack. The folder looks like it belongs in a garbage bin rather than a backpack. It's been ripped almost completely down the middle and poorly taped back together. She extracts a piece of paper from the folder that William recognizes to be the syllabus. Behind her sunglasses, William is sure her eyes are traveling rapidly across the page looking for evidence against his statement. He's also sure she won't find it.

"I guess you're right." There's a pout at her lips as she puts everything back in her pack. "So, you're not keen on sharing your loss story?"

"I haven't even written it yet."

"You must have an idea of what you're going to write about."

"What makes you think that? I've lost dozens of things in my life."

"Yeah, but isn't there one thing that stands out more than the others?"

"That doesn't mean it'll be what I write about."

"I guess that makes sense." Lizzy gives him a mischievous grin. "Want to hear a prediction I've got?"

"What?"

"I have a prediction." She glances over her shoulder at the small cluster of students waiting for their rides before looking back at him. "I predict that by the end of the week, there will be _a lot_ more girls waiting to be picked up."

He knits his eyebrows together, confused. "What? Why?"

"It's just a prediction." Her smile tells him she's holding back information. It's as if she's figured out the answer to a puzzle before he's even realized there was a puzzle to solve.

William _hates_ feeling like he's missing something. "Is there some sort of event coming up or something?"

Lizzy laughs. "No. The event's already happened. It's only a matter of time before the results become apparent."

"Just explain yourself." His tone is harsh, but she doesn't even wince.

Instead, she simply clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "Since you asked so nicely." Lizzy turns her head and waves at something in the distance.

William follows her gaze to find an old, faded automobile in the sea of shiny, newer models.

"Anyway. That's my mom. I've got to go." Lizzy starts walking away. William tries not to watch her leave, but he can't remove his eyes from her retreating form.

* * *

"I took the quiz in _Cosmo_, and I think he's totally cheating on me," Annabelle is saying as he walks into the classroom for creative writing.

William feels their eyes on him again as he takes his seat. This is getting rather annoying.

"You can't always trust _Cosmo_, though," another girl is saying. "I mean, obviously you can trust their articles about how to-" she looks around shiftily. "You know, but, like, they don't always know what they're talking about as far as relationships."

"Or fashion," Caroline adds.

"Well, duh. You look in _Vogue _for that."

Caroline nods approvingly just as Lizzy appears in the doorway.

"I agree," Annabelle says. "But Caroline, do you think James is cheating on me? He has no reason to whatsoever. I'm obviously the best he's going to get."

"Maybe not." Caroline is smirking. "Maybe you're not _pleasing_ him."

The girls all start cackling and William can tell by the way Lizzy roughly drops her bag on the ground next to her seat in front of him that she's already annoyed. Or she's having a bad morning. Or maybe she's just always like this. He doesn't know why he's so observant when it comes to her.

"You should totally read the new article," the other girl advises Annabelle eagerly. "It gives you thirty new ways to please your man."

"Didn't they have the same one two months ago?"

"It's not the same as this one," Caroline assures her. "This one talks about-"

"Every _Cosmo _article is the same, guys," Lizzy practically snarls at them. "You want to know how to please a man? _Touch his penis!_ There, I just saved you five bucks a month for the rest of your lives!"

William lets out a guffaw, and whether it's from Lizzy's comment or the girls' faces in response to Lizzy's comment, he doesn't know, but it seems to give the rest of the boys in the class permission to laugh as well.

"Everything okay, Lizzy?" Mr. Lucas asks, having just entered the room.

She smiles innocently and nods her head. "I was just telling Caroline and Annabelle that _Cosmo_ is a waste of money. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Lucas?"

* * *

William stares at the blank paper as he's done all week. Nothing comes to him. It's been three days since the assignment was assigned, and he has nothing. It's due tomorrow. He's starting to get worried. He can't write anything about loss, despite the fact that he knows he's experienced it all too well.

"William, can we go to the park?" Gee asks. "I'm done with my piano lessons."

"Really? Can you play me a song first?"

Gee giggles. "Sure. I love to play."

He misses that. Actually enjoying the piano. Gee's new instructor must be better than the one he has now. "I just have to finish my homework first."

"Do you need help?" Gee peers at his blank paper, then back at him. "William. You haven't written_ anything_."

"I know. Clearly I need a lot of help."

* * *

After twenty more minutes of staring at a blank sheet of paper, he gives up and takes Georgiana to the park like he promised.

She heads straight for the swings like she always does, and he takes a seat on a nearby bench to watch her.

"It's Lizzy!" Gee exclaims suddenly.

William turns to look where she's pointing, but doesn't see anyone. "Where?"

"You can only see her if you swing high enough." Gee continues to pump her legs. "Lizzy!"

Gee continues to yell, and William begins to feel a bit embarrassed. "Hey, Gee, maybe you should get off the swing, and we can go find Lizzy together."

"No, she's coming, William."

His sister is getting off the swing just as Lizzy finds them.

"Hey, Gee." Lizzy smiles and waves. "Hi, Darcy."

"How come you call him Darcy? That's his _last _name, you know," Gee informs her.

"I know." Lizzy grins at Gee. "He just won't let me call him Will."

"'Cause he prefers Will_iam_."

William feels his lips curve up at Gee's defense of him.

Lizzy's lips curve up too. "I'm sorry. He lets me call him Darcy though."

Gee's eyes turn to him, and when he nods, she looks back at Lizzy. "Well, I guess it's okay, but my last name is Darcy too."

"I know. Can I call you Darcy too?"

"No, silly. That would cause so much confusion."

Lizzy laughs. "Yeah, I guess it would. So I'll just keep calling you Gee, and I'll keep calling him Darcy. Okay?"

"Can I keep calling you Lizzy?"

"Call her Bennet," Will suggests. "That's _her_ last name."

"No, I like Lizzy better," Gee says.

"Yeah, me too." Lizzy agrees.

"What are you doing here?" William asks her.

She meets his eyes. "I was doing some homework."

"You do your homework at the park?" Gee looks confused.

"Yeah, there's always a lot going on at my house. I can never concentrate," Lizzy explains, sitting down on the bench next to William.

Gee sits between them. "What goes on at your house?"

"I have four sisters. Two of them make a lot of noise." Then she stage whispers, "Plus my mom is a little crazy."

"Is your dad loud too?"

Lizzy gives her a strange smile and tucks a curl behind her ear. "No. He's pretty quiet. Too quiet sometimes, actually. I wish he'd talk to me more."

"Our dad doesn't talk to us very much either," Gee tells her innocently. "He works a lot."

William clears his throat, and Lizzy meets his eyes again above Gee's head and gives an understanding nod.

"Hey, Gee. How's school going?" Lizzy asks, changing the subject.

"It's good. I have a lot of new friends."

"Really?"

Gee nods. "They like the way I talk."

"Do you like the way they talk?"

"Sure, but I like the way you talk best."

Lizzy laughs. "Really?"

"Yeah. You have a nice voice. It's soft and pretty."

"Thank you." She looks surprised. "You are a very nice girl."

"I know. Want to swing?"

Lizzy looks up at the swings. "There's only one open one, Gee. Why don't you take it?"

"I just had it. Are you sure you want me to go again?"

"Absolutely."

Gee runs back to her swing, leaving Will with Lizzy, like she had the first day they were all there.

"How's your assignment for creative writing going?" Lizzy asks.

"Not well," he answers honestly.

She nods sympathetically. "I just finished mine. Do you like Mr. Lucas?"

"He seems to let you get away with a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"You insulted Caroline the first day of school-"

"She said something to me first." She's obviously defensive about it.

"I know, but he didn't say anything to you about it."

"It's hardly something to give me detention for." Lizzy rolls her eyes. "If anything, he should give me an A for the creativity of my comments."

"Caroline might get an A for effort then."

Lizzy snorts. "No doubt about it, but what does that have to do with Mr. Lucas?"

"I've just never seen him reprimand you before."

"It's only been a week."

"I think you've insulted Caroline every day this week, in front of Mr. Lucas most of the time. He doesn't reprimand you at all."

She smirks. "Maybe that's just because I've never done anything that he believed needed reprimanding."

* * *

"No one wants to share what they've written?" Mr. Lucas asks, clearly disappointed. "I know you all had a lot to share with me when we were brainstorming, but no one wants to let me hear their finished products?"

He's met with resounding silence.

"Everyone's going to have to share their work in here, guys. You might as well get it over with now."

"I'll share," Lizzy raises her hand. Her hair isn't wet today, but she still smells like citrus and flowers.

"Lizzy!" Mr. Lucas gives her a grateful smile. "Great. Why don't you come up here and read us your paper."

She rises from her chair with a single piece of paper in her hand. When she gets to the front of the room, she pushes the fringe off her face and tucks some of her hair behind her ears. Lizzy flashes a nervous smile before taking a deep breath and beginning.

"Loss." There's a pause.

"When I was younger, my dad gave me this gorgeous silver bracelet. I remember thinking it was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen. I loved it and wore it everywhere, showed it off to whoever cared to humor an eight year old. One day, after school, I noticed it wasn't on my wrist anymore. My sisters and I were already home by the time I realized it, but my tears and insistence brought my sister, Jane, and I back to the school. We talked to the janitors and a few of the teachers, but no one had seen it."

She looks up from her words on the page and offers a half smile to the class. "The worst part was telling my dad. I was so worried he would be disappointed in me. I couldn't believe I had lost something so valuable, so carelessly. My father wasn't angry or disappointed, from what I could tell. He was mainly worried about my own sadness, and wanted to buy me another one. I said no because I didn't feel like I deserved it.

"A few months later, while wandering around my yard with my dad, a flash of silver caught my eye. It was my lost bracelet, sitting innocently in the grass." She bites her lip and gives the class a glimpse of her blue eyes for a second.

"At the age of eight, this is what I believed loss to be. You lose something, but you'll find it later. That's why there's a Lost and Found, after all. It's not a Lost and Lost. A mother loses her child in the grocery store, only to find him at the register waiting for her. A boy loses his dog because he left the door open, and she comes scratching at the door the next morning. A man loses his keys and then realizes he left them in the lock. A girl loses her bracelet, finds it months later, waiting for her in the yard. Until two years ago, this has been the basic story line of the things I have lost in my life. I am usually always fortunate enough to find them later."

She clutches something at her neck with her trembling right hand, while the one holding the paper begins to shake. "Two years ago, my dad died of cancer."

William's eyes widen. He hadn't been expecting that.

"I now understand the true meaning of loss." She looks up briefly, and he can see her eyes have begun to water.

"The word _lost_ will not always be followed by the word _found_. It's not an if-then statement. Losing something is not the first step to finding it again." Lizzy sniffles. "Not always."

The knuckles from the fist she's making at her neck are white with tension. "Just because you lose something, doesn't mean you will find it again. It's not some story that always ends with a reunion of thing lost and person who lost said thing. I didn't misplace my dad. He hasn't gone astray. He's not missing. He's _gone_. There's no way he's coming back."

She looks up and emphasizes each word. "He. Is. Gone."

William leans forward, closer to her voice, hanging on every word she speaks.

Her voice is quieter now, softer, sadder. "Never again will my dad hug me, or walk with me, or scold me, or laugh with me, or assure me he loves me. I can look in all the places we used to go, all the places I think he may be hiding, and I won't find him. He can't be found. No matter where I search, I won't _find_ him."

It feels as if Lizzy Bennet has reached into his chest, pulled out his feelings, and thrown them onto the piece of paper she's clutching so tightly. How else would she be able to describe them so well? His hands are in tight fists under his desk, his fingernails digging into the palms in an attempt to control himself. William needs to keep his face passive, his eyes blank, his breathing even. It's all so damn hard to do, though, when his throat feels constricted and his heart is thumping against his ribcage so loudly that he's _sure _everyone can hearit.

Lizzy looks up, a lone tear falling down her cheek. "That is what it means to _truly_ lose something."


	5. Something Like a Phenomena

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Five: Something Like a Phenomena**

_You're something like a phenomena  
Something like an astronoma  
Roll kid, rock your body off  
Something like a phenomena, baby_

- Yeah Yeah Yeahs_; Phenomena_

_

* * *

_

"She's only getting special treatment because she's BFF with Mr. Lucas's daughter," Caroline says, running a hand through her straight red hair as they walk. "I mean, her story wasn't even true!"

Word about Lizzy's essay spreads like wildfire, and by the time the lunch bell rings, William is sure the headmaster himself has heard about it. By some form of misfortune, he finds himself walking behind Caroline and her friends on the way to lunch.

"Didn't you say she wrote about her dad dying? I thought that part was true," a girl he recognizes from his English and Physics classes says tentatively.

"She doesn't have a yard!" Caroline exclaims, glaring. "And I doubt her father could have afforded to get her a _real_ silver bracelet."

"I really don't think that has anything to do with-"

"_Shut up_, Cassie! God, I can't believe you're taking her side. She's so fucking annoying. With her _stupid_ essay and _fake_ tears. You saw it, didn't you, Annabelle? It was _so_ obvious that she was faking."

"She _so _was," Annabelle agrees.

"She wouldn't even be able to go here if it weren't for her _stupid _scholarship! _God_!"

William can't really comprehend what that has to do with Lizzy's writing, but he'd rather not start a conversation with Caroline. He moves to sit down at his table first, rather than get in the lunch line and endure several more minutes of their ranting.

Lizzy is sitting at her usual table, alone today. He notices people shooting her various types of looks, ranging from curious to sympathetic. William wonders if she's ignoring them or just doesn't notice them.

When he spots Caroline and her friends leaving the lunch line, he stands to get his own. He's not very hungry, so he simply grabs an apple and a carton of milk and pays. By the time he comes back to his table, one that he's used to only sharing only with Charles, there's just one seat left.

A few of the occupants are girls he recognizes from his classes and the rest are girls he's seen around school before. All are staring at him with expectant smiles.

"Hi, William," one giggles.

"Don't worry, William, we saved you a seat." Another pats the empty seat next to her.

William looks around for Charles, but doesn't see him. Most of the seats in the cafeteria are taken at this point, since it's about halfway into the lunch period by now. His eyes meet Lizzy's, and she smirks and looks away.

Making up his mind, William mutters, "No, thanks."

He walks from his usual table to Lizzy's empty one, fully aware of the stares that this simple act was attracting.

Lizzy shakes her head at him, an amused smile playing on her lips. "I'm so flattered you chose me over a whole group of girls."

"You should be," he replies bluntly.

She laughs as she peels an orange. Lizzy is one of the few students that brings her lunch from home.

He expects her to talk, but she's eerily silent today. Whenever he looks at her, she's staring intently at her orange. So they sit in silence like that, him eating his apple and her eating her orange, and no words pass between them.

When he's done with the apple and stands to throw away the core, William considers leaving. There's only about ten minutes left of lunch anyway. However, his legs take him back to Lizzy, who has also finished her orange.

There are words he knows he should say, needs to say. They've been stuck somewhere in his throat, and he thought the apple would have pushed them down, but he's wrong. William struggles to force them out of his mouth. "I'm sorry about your father."

She looks up from cleaning up her mess of orange peels to meet his eyes. "Thanks."

"At…the park." He inspects the green straw in his milk carton carefully. "You told my sister that your father was quiet."

A pause. Then, "Yeah."

His eyebrows knit together, but his eyes remain on the straw. "What did you mean by that?"

"Well, I mean, I didn't want to tell your sister that my dad was dead. That would have been a total downer."

William wonders if it would have really been a downer. Knowing Gee, she probably would have thought it was neat that someone else had lost a parent.

"What was your essay about?"

"Keys," he answers honestly, finally looking up. "Losing your keys." There's disappointment on her face, and he doesn't know why. He can't imagine what she thought he would write about. "Not nearly as interesting as yours."

She smiles briefly, before biting her lip. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Maybe it's because she is acting so out of character today, and he is so confused by it. Maybe it's because she had just told an entire class of twenty something extremely personal. Or maybe it's because, and you didn't hear this from him, he is beginning to feel like Lizzy Bennet would make a decent friend. Whatever the reason, William finds himself giving her a curt nod.

Lizzy looks hesitant, but then she quietly asks, "Where's your mom?"

Part of him had been expecting that question, but it still makes him flinch.

Reading whatever expression is on his face, Lizzy casts her eyes down. "Sorry."

He still doesn't say anything, and maybe that makes her as uncomfortable as her persistent questions make him, because she begins to shift in her seat.

"You can tell me, you know," she assures him gently.

William glances around the room. Most of the students are still watching the scene play out, and the girls that took his table take turns giving Lizzy glares. There's a buzz of voices in the room, and, if he wanted to, William's sure he could guess what they're talking about. He's used to being a topic of discussion, though it's never been for something as simple as sitting with a girl, one that he's sure is nothing too special, just different.

He won't deny that Lizzy Bennet is different from the rest of them. Physically, she's got a nice enough body, but she doesn't seem to put much thought into her appearance at all. Her uniform is sometimes wrinkled and always faded. He'd venture to guess that she only has enough shirts and pleated skirts to last her the week, whereas most of the students, him included, have enough to go a month or two without having to wash a load.

She is as curious about him as the rest of them are, that much is obvious, but her questions are different. Lizzy doesn't seem to care much about the decades of work it took to build the Darcy name, the amount of power and riches he will have at his disposal when he inherits the entire Darcy empire, or the potential benefits to be gained from being associated with him. William doubts she even knows what his father does. She seems more interested in getting on his nerves than getting in his good graces.

This irks him to no end.

"What do you mean?" he asks, stalling as he searches his mind for a possible answer.

William can practically see the cogs in her head turning as her light blue eyes stare into his. Her eyebrows are knit together and there are four creases in her forehead like she's trying to figure out a puzzle, like _he_ is her latest puzzle.

"You never talk about her, and you always-"

"It's really none of your business." His tone is harsh, and his father would be proud. However, this – what he's doing, what he's saying, the tone he's saying it _in_ – has nothing to do with his father and everything to do with self-preservation.

Her eyes widen in shock, and then narrow defensively. "Fine." She stands, picks up her garbage, and exits the cafeteria without a backwards glance.

Half the students watch Lizzy leave. The other half watch him for a reaction, but they're sure to be disappointed because he gives none.

* * *

He can't focus in Physics. His lab partner, Collin Thompson, is asking him stupid questions about getting an internship with his father, and he can't get a certain pair of light blue eyes out of his head.

"I mean, your dad's company is on the list of one hundred best places to work in the UK. Did you know that?"

William says nothing as he fiddles with the spring they're supposed to be using for the assignment.

"My dad's talking about cutting me off once I graduate. He says it's for my own good. I don't think he'd do it, but just in case, I think I need to have a back up."

William wishes he had known this boy would be like this before he had chosen his seat. Now he's stuck with Collin as his lab partner for what may very well be the rest of the year.

"So, I was thinking that if I interned for your dad, and he talked to my dad, he could get my dad to change his mind about cutting me off. What do you think?"

"Can you hand me that scale?" William points to the scale he needs.

"Sure." Collin nods, but he fumbles with the scale and drops it.

William sighs, dropping his head onto the cool table. Why are group assignments even necessary? All they do is punish the smartest one in the group, and that is clearly not Collin.

* * *

"William?"

It's one of the girls that had the audacity to sit at his table earlier at lunch. Her name escapes him. He's sure he heard it before but he never bothered to remember it. William suddenly wishes he hadn't been in such a hurry to get out of Physics, that way he wouldn't have gotten to Economics early, and this girl without a name couldn't have cornered him.

"How come you didn't sit with us at lunch, William?" she asks, jutting her glossy lower lip out.

He lets out an exasperated breath and stares at her in disbelief. After Lizzy Bennet nosing in his business at lunch and then putting up with Collin Thompson's uselessness for an hour, he finds it difficult to believe that this girl's biggest problem is something as mundane as cafeteria seating arrangements.

"We saved you a seat, you know. You didn't have to sit with Lizzy Bennet." She sneers when she says Lizzy's name, and William is guessing this is why Lizzy was so defensive when she first told him she was at this school thanks to a scholarship.

"She's really annoying, isn't she?" the girl continues, unaware of the direction of his thoughts.

Despite what he's learned about Lizzy this morning, William isn't ready to start defending her to strangers. After all, the fact that they both have a dead parent doesn't make them _friends_. She isn't exactly someone he _wants_ to be friends with.

"Yes, she is," William replies softly, earning a wide smile from the girl. He's not sure Lizzy annoys him the same way she annoys this girl without a name, but he's in no mood to clarify or compare. That would require more talking, and, honestly, he's had enough of that today.

Lizzy doesn't look at him during Government. Judging from a glace at her notebook, it seems that she's actually decided to take notes today. William tries to do the same, but he can't focus when the smell of citrus and that unrecognizable flower are distracting him. There's something familiar about the scent of the flower, but he can't place it, and he doesn't want to ask her.

William ends up spending the majority of the class period going through flower species in his mind, because he needs to figure this out and he refuses to let her know that, once again, she knows something he doesn't. Never mind that this isn't something he should even be expected to know.

Soft, warm fingers find his under his desk, sending a strange tingle up his arm. He accidentally jerks his hand away in surprise before he realizes that they're _her _fingers. William turns his head to look at her, confused, but she's still not looking at him. Tentatively, unable to fight the curiosity, he puts his hand back on his thigh, palm facing up.

Just as Mrs. Lane is wrapping up the class, William feels her fingers and something else in his hand. When he looks at her questioningly, she's staring straight ahead, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

The bell rings, and her fingers slip out of his hand quickly, and he's left holding a note.

Lizzy is out the door before he can demand that she explain herself.

* * *

_Sorry._

That's the only word written on the half-page Lizzy had pressed into his hand. He stares at it as he walks to his usual spot to wait for his driver. He flips it over several times, absolutely _certain_ there must be something more to this note. What is she sorry for? Is she sorry for asking him about his mother at lunch? Has she figured out what had happened to his mother without him answering? Is this note even for him? Is this another note he was supposed to pass to Connor? Even then, what is she apologizing to Connor for?

Maybe she's sorry for being so _bloody_ confusing.

He has never met someone quite as baffling as Lizzy Bennet.

* * *

"Hi, William."

"Hey, William."

"William, come stand by me."

The girls wouldn't be so bloody annoying if they hadn't proven Lizzy Bennet right_ again_. Just as she had predicted, there were a lot more girls than there had been on Tuesday. There are about three times as many girls waiting here than before actually, and most of them are from his grade.

He is in no mood for this. William looks around for a spot away from these girls, but only sees Lizzy standing by herself a few feet away, smirking at him. He narrows his eyes at her and, ignoring the others, makes his way to where she's standing.

William stands next to her, leaving enough room between them for a whole other person to stand. There are several questions he wants to ask her, about the note, about her essay, about herself, but he bites his tongue stubbornly.

Finally, he chooses the question he thinks has the least potential for damage. "How did you know the girls would be here?"

She's silent, and he looks over at her to make sure she heard him. She's looking down at her shoes, but her shoulders are shaking in a way that suggests she's either crying or laughing. William feels his fist clench because he knows she can't be crying, and he doesn't enjoy being laughed at.

Lizzy finally meets his eyes, hers bright with mirth. "Do you not realize it?"

"Realize what?" Her silence wears his patience thin. "Realize _what_?"

"_You're_ the reason they're here." Lizzy jerks her head towards the girls behind him.

He shoots a glance behind him.

"You're new here," she continues, smiling at her hands. "You're good looking, you're rich, and you're a _Darcy_. They see this as an opportunity to get to know you. Everyone wants to be your friend. Don't tell me you didn't realize that after the whole lunch table thing."

William is surprised she's even acknowledged his money and status. There is a strange fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach, and he has no idea what on earth it's from, especially since he has eaten nothing but an apple today. "I was a bit preoccupied at lunch today."

"That's not really an excuse for not being observant." William expects her to say something about their conversation at lunch, or maybe explain her note more, but he's left disappointed. "Before, they just thought you were shy, you know. You didn't really talk to anyone unless they talked to you first, and, even then, your answers were monosyllabic."

"I'm still like that."

"Not with me." Her voice is smug.

He narrows his eyes at her in response and opens his mouth to correct her, but she continues.

"They've seen that, you know." Lizzy nods her head in the other direction again. "You talking to me. Now, they all think that since you'll talk to Lizzy Bennet, you'll _definitely_ want to talk to them."

"Why would I want to talk to them?"

Lizzy gives him a brief, brilliant sort of smile before taking her lower lip between her teeth and nodding twice. It's gone before he can properly process it.

He frowns. "Well?"

A car honks, stealing Lizzy's attention. She waves at the car before turning back to him. "You're a smart kid, Darcy. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Don't patronize me," he snaps.

"I'm not," she laughs. "Have a good weekend, Darcy."

* * *

"Are you making friends, Georgiana?" his father asks at dinner. It's the first day this week that their father has made it home in time for dinner. William can't say he's celebrating.

"Yes, sir." Gee's voice is meek, and William can't stand it.

"Anyone I know?"

Gee glances at him quickly before answering. "There's a boy named John Churchill, like Winston Churchill. I don't think they're related though."

William accidentally clanks his silverware as he makes an effort to hide his laugh. Gee gives him a small smile.

"I could ask him for you, if you want, Father," Gee says innocently.

"That's quite alright, Georgiana." His father replies curtly. "How are you enjoying school?"

"Fine." Gee takes a deep breath, as if to say more, but she seems to change her mind and simply lets it out quietly.

His father turns to him. "How about you, William?"

"Fine as well," he replies. "Most of the students have heard of us."

"Of course they have." His father spears one of his last pieces of asparagus and chews carefully.

"Right." William puts down his silverware, no longer hungry. His appetite is getting smaller and smaller it seems.

"I've actually been thinking," his father says once he's swallowed his food as well as a gulp of water. "I know we had plans for you to attend Oxford like your mother, but I think it would be very beneficial for you to attend one of the universities here in the States."

That would mean more years in the States. "Oh."

"We're expanding our business, son. It's important for Americans to feel like they have someone who knows the American system."

"I can learn the American system at Oxford." William hopes his voice doesn't sound like he's pleading.

"Or you can learn it in America." His father takes another sip of water. "It builds trusts with our clients, son."

"What about the English clients?"

"They know we're from the mother country, and their loyalties go back decades. That's not an issue. The issue is the new clients we want to eventually win. They'll be more confident in a CEO who was educated in America."

William remains silent, knowing there is absolutely no use in arguing.

"If you're opposed to the idea, you don't have to go to university at all, really. There's nothing they can teach you in university that you won't learn from actually getting your hands dirty, metaphorically speaking, of course." His father smiles at the joke.

He tries to do the same, but it feels unnatural to him. The idea of not attending university had never sat well with his mother. She had always believed he would miss out on something crucial if he didn't go, but she isn't here to argue his side anymore.

"Mother thought it'd be best if I went to university before working," he says quietly, as the ever-present dull ache in his chest flares.

His father nods. "Then we can work out which universities in America will be best for you. Obviously the ivy leagues are the best way to go, but there are quite a few to choose from. It's a compromise, really. I'd prefer you'd go straight into working with me and learn by doing, and you'd prefer to put it off for a few years and go to university in England. We both give a little with this solution, but I think it will work out fine."

He sighs. It's not much of a compromise when he has no choice but to accept. He agrees anyway.

"Good. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure you'll be able to start coming to the office in a month or so. You'll get a feel of the company and how it's different here than in London, maybe learn a few other things as well."

Less time he'd be able to spend with Gee. "Great."

"Yes, it was very fortunate your uncle and I made the decision to expand the company to the States well before your mother died. It made transitioning here a lot easier."

William pushes his plate away, the gnawing pain in his chest making it impossible for him to eat anymore. _Easier_. What a bloody joke.

Gee pushes hers away too, biting her lip and looking at him anxiously. William tries to arrange his face in a neutral expression for her sake.

There's a soft knock at the door that makes all three of them look up.

"Are you expecting anyone?" his father asks, frowning.

"No, sir," Gee replies. William can tell that it's a struggle for her to stay in her seat. She's curious to see who's at the door.

"I'm not expecting anyone either," he adds.

A crease on his father's forehead deepens. He turns to Mrs. Reynolds and says, "Bring our guest in here."

The housekeeper nods and leaves the dining room. His father wipes the corners of his mouth, pushes his plate away, and motions for the maid to clear the table.

Just as the last plate is being taken out of the room, in walks Caroline Bingley.

William is in such shock that he almost forgets to stand. It's only Gee's kick to his shin that makes him realize he's still sitting, when their father is standing.

"Caroline, what brings you here?"

"Hello, Mr. Darcy." She gives his father a charming smile, then turns to him. "William."

"This is my sister, Georgiana," William says. He hates when people ignore Gee.

Caroline turns her eyes to Gee. "Hello, there. My name is Caroline Bingley."

Gee gives her a polite smile, but says nothing. She turns to William, who gives a wink to reassure her.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your dinner," Caroline begins.

"Nonsense. We were just finishing up," his father replies politely, but William can tell he's interested to see what Caroline wants as well. "What can I do for you, Caroline?"

"I was actually just wondering if William would like to join my brother and me for some dessert. We're going to get frozen yogurt. It's kind of a tradition with a few of us from school. We go out on the Friday of the first week of school and just catch up."

William doesn't understand why they would do that. Didn't they get enough of each other at school?

His father smiles. "That sounds like a brilliant idea, don't you think, William?"

Although it's posed as a question, William knows there's only one answer that his father will accept. "Sure."

Caroline's eyes glitter with satisfaction, and he thinks it's a bit of an underhanded move, using his father to get him to go somewhere he has no interest in going. "Great! I'll be driving. Can you be at my house in half an hour, William?"

He nods, annoyed. "Of course."

"Can I come?" Gee asks, looking at their father with desperate eyes.

His father tries to be diplomatic. "I don't think Caroline-"

"Caroline actually loves children," William interrupts. "She told me so. Besides, she's been eager to spend time with Georgiana."

Caroline's mouth hangs open for a few seconds, as three pairs of eyes wait for her reaction. "Of course!" she says finally. "Of course Georgiana can come."

"If you're sure," his father gives her one last chance to back out.

She nods. "Absolutely. Like William said, I've been dying to get to know Georgiana."


	6. War of My Life

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Six: War of My Life**

_I'm in the war of my life, at the door of my life  
Out of time and there's nowhere to run  
I'm in the war of my life, at the core of my life  
Got no choice but to fight till it's done_

John Mayer_; War of My Life_

_

* * *

_

Caroline is not happy, and William is straddling the line between amused and offended that she doesn't like Gee. She attempts to make conversation with only William, and when Gee answers for him, Caroline will give her nothing more than an acknowledging nod. Charles is, unlike Caroline and unsurprisingly, very nice to his sister.

"So what's your favorite kind of yogurt, Gee?" Charles asks.

"All kinds," Gee replies vaguely. William can tell she's very distracted by her surroundings. They're making their way into the frozen yogurt shop that seems to be a bit deserted tonight.

Charles laughs dutifully. "I think you'll really like this frozen yogurt."

"I've never had frozen yogurt before. Does it taste better than regular yogurt?"

"Yes, definitely," Charles answers.

Cold fingers wrap themselves around his wrist.

"Your sister is adorable," Caroline says; as if she hadn't just spent the short car ride with a sour look on her face while ignoring Gee.

He shrugs her off with minimal difficulty, but politely holds the door open for her. She smiles at him before walking through. Gee and Charles walk through as well, his sister taking his hand as she walks.

"Caroline! Charles!" Annabelle calls from a table of four girls in the corner.

"Hey guys!" Caroline grabs William's free hand and drags him to the table.

"William!" Annabelle cries happily. "I wasn't sure if Caroline was lying when she said you were coming. It seemed too good to be true!"

William says nothing in reply, but looks at his sister, hoping that she'll make this whole outing tolerable.

There's a chorus of hellos and a few curious glances at his sister, who waves shyly.

"Is this your sister, William?" the girl from his Economics class asks. "God, she's so adorable."

"My name is Gee," she tells them.

"She's not here," Annabelle whispers in Caroline's ear as the others gush over Gee, though he doesn't know if that's for his sister's benefit or his. "They said she got off work at six."

"What?" Caroline hisses. "She usually closes on Friday nights!"

"I know, but I guess they changed her schedule, since school star-"

"This was her schedule last year!"

"Looking for me, Caroline?" Lizzy appears as if from out of nowhere. The chatter of the group comes to a sudden halt.

Caroline's eyes narrow as she looks Lizzy up and down. "Where's your _uniform_?"

"Did you come all this way to see me in my uniform?" Lizzy grins, shaking her head. "God, Caroline, I know I'm the best frozen yogurt cashier you've ever met, but everyone else is just as capable, you know."

"You have a uniform?" Gee asks suddenly, reminding everyone of her presence.

Lizzy's face suddenly changes, and he sees guilt flash in her eyes before she smiles at his sister. "Hey Gee. I didn't see you there. Have you gotten any yogurt yet?"

"Not yet."

"You want to go get some?" Lizzy asks, holding out her hand. "I know all the best flavors, you know. Ask Charlie, he'll tell you."

Gee takes her hand with the one that's not in his. "How?"

"I work here."

"Is that why you have a uniform?"

"Yep." Lizzy's eyes meet his briefly, and she smiles in acknowledgement before looking at Gee again.

"Do you look really good in it? Is that why Caroline wants to see you in it?"

Lizzy laughs. "I don't know, actually. You should ask her."

"Maybe later," Gee shrugs. "William, Charles, are you going to get frozen yogurt with us?"

Charles looks a bit shocked by the turn of events, but he manages a breathless sort of laugh. "Of course."

"I've decided I don't want yogurt anymore," Caroline announces, hands on her hips.

Lizzy snorts, but gently tugs Gee's hand towards the yogurt dispensers.

Caroline watches them go with her eyes still narrowed. "I'm_ leaving_. You guys coming?" she asks the group at the table.

They all look at each other. "Where are we going?" one of them hazards to ask.

"Anywhere but this dump." Caroline grabs Charles's arm. "Let's _go_, Charles."

"Caroline," Charles tries. "At least let William's sister get her yogurt before we all take off."

"You don't have to stay, Caroline," Lizzy says. "I can take Gee home, if William's okay with it."

"Your car will probably break down in the middle of the road. It's positively ancient," Caroline sneers before William can even fully process Lizzy's words.

Lizzy shrugs. "It'll be an adventure then. You like adventures, don't you, Gee?"

Gee looks at William, apparently conflicted. "Do you want to stay with Lizzy?"

"If you want to stay, I'll stay with you," Charles tells him quietly. He meets Lizzy's eyes. "You're okay with taking all three of us back, right?"

"Yeah," Lizzy smiles. "It's pretty much the same spot anyway."

William watches as Caroline's face turns red. He gets the feeling that she only chose this spot in the first place to see Lizzy in her uniform and possibly harass her in a setting where she couldn't really fight back – at least not without losing her job. Now that Lizzy is here on her own time, Caroline's upper hand is gone.

"You're staying with them too?" Caroline asks him in disbelief.

William shrugs. "My sister wants frozen yogurt."

Judging from the look on her face, Caroline's realized that she can't back down from her threat to leave without looking weak, but she doesn't want to leave him here either. Finally, she lets out a loud, exasperated huff before storming out; the other four girls follow close behind her, looking dejected.

"Nice going, Lizzy. You scared away all the customers," the brunette at the cash register says, smirking.

Lizzy rolls her eyes. "Most of them already bought yogurt anyway."

"Hello, Charlotte," Charles waves.

The brunette – Charlotte – smiles and waves back. "Who are your friends, Charlie?"

"This is William and his sister Georgiana."

William nods his head politely, but he feels warm fingers in his palm. When he looks down, there are tiny paper cups in his hand, probably a little bigger than thimbles.

"They're sample cups," Lizzy explains, handing some to Gee too. When she looks at Charles, she smirks. "The usual, Charlie?"

"You know me too well." He laughs and reaches for a paper bowl behind Lizzy. "I got it."

Lizzy shakes her head at him. "You're so boring, Charlie."

"I know what I like." He moves to the dispenser and begins to get his yogurt.

"What are these for?" Gee asks, holding up her sample cups.

"For you to try all the yogurt, before you pick a flavor." Lizzy takes one and pulls the lever at one of the dispensers for her. "This one's strawberry."

Gee tries it. "That's good."

Lizzy takes the empty sample cup and throws it in the garbage. "Do you want to try more? We have a lot of flavors."

"Okay!" Gee looks more excited than he's seen her all day.

Lizzy nods. "Can you do it yourself? Or do you want me or your brother to get it for you?"

"I've got it," she replies confidently.

"I assume you've got it too?" Lizzy asks him.

"It's not exactly rocket science."

"Of course not," Lizzy grins and walks to the register to talk to her friend.

William watches curiously as she pushes Charles's money away and shakes her head at him. Lizzy pokes him in the chest and laughs. She whispers something in Charlotte's ear before jumping over the counter and disappearing behind a door.

"William?"

He looks down at his sister. "Yes?"

"I'm out of sample cups."

William hands her all of his. "Here you go."

"Don't you want any?"

"I'm not really in the mood for dessert, Gee," he explains honestly.

She pouts at him. "Will you share some with me?"

He nods, giving in. "Have you decided which kind you want?"

"I haven't tried them all yet," Gee tells him. "I can't make an informed decision until I try them all."

William laughs. "Of course not."

As Gee tries the rest of the flavors, he notices that she has to stand on her tiptoes to reach the lever, and she usually gets yogurt on her fingers, which she licks off. He wonders how much sugar he should let Gee have.

Gee finally decides to mix orange and apple together and rushes to the cash register with her bowl and Charlotte helps her choose a few toppings to go with it. Her bowl is so colorful that William starts to feel bad for Mrs. Reynolds who will probably have trouble putting her to bed tonight.

Lizzy reappears as he is pulling out his wallet, and she shakes her head at him like she did with Charles. "It's on me."

"No, I really insist," he pulls out an American ten-dollar bill.

"That's way too much, especially considering you don't have to pay _anything_." Lizzy insists back.

"It's really not that big of a deal," William tells her. "If it's too much then tell me how much the yogurt is and I'll give you the exact amount. Or give me change."

"That's really alright. Don't worry about it. I wouldn't dream of making Gee pay."

"Well, Gee's not paying, I am."

Lizzy rolls her eyes and gives him a gentle push. "Really, it's not a big deal. Go sit with Charlie and let Gee enjoy her yogurt. There are spoons over there. I'm going to help Charlotte for a second. Let me know when you guys are ready to go."

William can't help but feel guilty as he walks with his sister to the table Charles has chosen. He sees Lizzy say something to Charlotte before she makes her way to the dispensers with a washcloth.

He drops his spoon on the ground, and when Gee offers him hers, he shakes his head and says he'll just get a new one. William feels Charlotte's eyes on him as he drops his ten in the tip jar next to the cash register.

* * *

Lizzy Bennet drives like a maniac.

William is still getting used to being on the right side of the road with his normal driver, but this is too much. Her turns are much too sharp, her eyes stray from the road much too often, and her foot is much too heavy on the gas. Worst of all, she seems too preoccupied with the radio to even notice it.

All the windows are rolled down, and he watches as the wind blows through her hair and, when she's not talking to Charles and Gee, her mouth moves as she softly sings along to the radio. She never lets it stay on a song for too long, using her right hand to switch from station to station while her left steers.

He's all too happy to see his house come into view. This will be the last time he accepts a ride from Lizzy. William doesn't enjoy risking his life too often.

* * *

He spends his weekend doing homework, doing research on American universities and the requirements for admissions, and doing mountains of paperwork at his father's request. He's pretty sure it's just busywork though, as he doubts his father would let him touch anything _really_ important until he's proven himself.

William spends his weekend doing nothing worth recounting, which means, once again, he'll have nothing to say to his classmates. He's not really bothered by this, but he's sure they will be.

* * *

Girls are becoming more aggressive in their attempts to talk to him. They wait by his locker and try to engage him in conversations. The ones that are lucky enough to sit near him always turn in their seats to ask him about his weekend. A few ask him to walk with them to their shared classes, as if it's not the second week of school and they haven't been here three years longer than he has.

William can hear boys complaining. They think he has an unfair advantage. He's a novelty, he's the right amount of tall, he's got an English accent, and, of course, he's a Darcy. According to his peers, he's got everything.

He begins to wonder if this is a glimpse of the life that he's destined to have: a life where he supposedly has everything, yet nothing makes him happy.

* * *

Charles invites him to sit with his friends at lunch when he sees a new set of girls has taken over William's usual table. Without thinking, he looks at Lizzy's table to see she's sitting with two girls he doesn't recognize.

William agrees to sit with Charles.

"You're quite popular," he teases as they walk to the lunch line.

William rolls his eyes and grabs a sandwich and an apple. "Not by choice, I assure you."

"New students usually garner a lot of attention. I'm sure it'll die down soon."

"I wish it would die down now."

Charles laughs. "Were you this popular at your old school?"

Not many people have asked him about his life in England, so the question surprises him and William has to think about it before answering. It's difficult to remember the world he lived in before his mother died, partly because he hasn't tried and partly because he's become almost comfortably numb now, and searching for a memory requires pushing through the numbness into a world of hurt.

He decides, recklessly, to try anyway, and it does hurt, even though he only scratches the surface. He forces himself to think only of school, nothing else. It's safer that way. He remembers girls smiling at him, he remembers enjoying the attention, he remembers kissing far too many girls and his mother scolding him for being -

Too much. He swallows and pushes the memories away.

"Yes. I was," William replies hoarsely. "I suppose it just didn't bother me as much back then."

"The girls following you around at your old school probably weren't as annoying as my sister," Charles mutters.

William gives a genuine laugh. "That's true."

* * *

Lunch with Charles isn't so bad, and neither is Charles himself. It's difficult to comprehend how someone could be so genuinely jovial and friendly all the time, but William decides not to fault him for it.

Charles's friends, who are not used to his preferred silence yet, attempt to make conversation with him.

"So you're a senior?" the boy introduced as Luke asks.

"Yes."

"That's cool. I can't wait to be a senior."

William can't help thinking that that was a completely unnecessary response.

"Isn't your girlfriend a senior, Charlie?" another boy asks. William's already forgotten his name.

Charles's cheeks flush. "Jane's not my girlfriend."

This makes William raise an eyebrow. "Really? I thought you two were together."

"No." The color on his cheeks becomes a deeper shade of red. "I mean, I like her, and I think she likes me, but we're nothing official."

"Why couldn't you just pick a girl that goes here?" Luke shakes his head. "It would have been so much easier."

"Dude. Have you _seen _Charlie's girl? She's way prettier than any of the girls here."

The smile Charles has on his face is almost proud, but he tells them, "Guys, she's not my girl."

"She can't be that pretty," Luke says dubiously, ignoring Charles's comment.

"William's seen her." Charles looks at him. "You think she's pretty, don't you?"

With a sigh, he nods.

"Is she prettier than Caroline?" Luke asks.

The other boy nods enthusiastically. "She's a hell of a lot nicer too."

"Well, no doubt about that," Luke laughs. "I know rabid dogs that are nicer than Caroline Bingley."

The other boy laughs too. "True. No offense, Charlie."

"None taken. It's common knowledge that my sister is not the nicest person in the world." Charles rolls his eyes. "Can we get back on topic, please?"

"Blah, blah, blah," the other boy teases. "Your girl is perfect. Let's talk about some other girls. How about Mary Stevens, huh? She's cleaned up since the summer. I'm thinking about asking her out."

William gets the feeling that this is how a normal conversation between boys his age should go. Conversations about girls and annoying sisters, with harmless jabs peppered in. He gets a strange sense of normality from it.

To be honest, though, he's bored out of his mind.

* * *

Lizzy is in his Physics class speaking to the teacher when he walks in. Her presence has caused a bit of whispering, and he tries to make sense of it as he makes his way to his usual seat.

"What's Lizzy Bennet doing here?" Collin asks, looking quite ridiculous with his safety goggles over his regular glasses.

William assumes he's speaking to someone else and doesn't answer.

Collin pokes him. "William? Did you hear me?"

Apparently he was mistaken. Unfortunately, Collin is actually talking to him. "I don't know."

"She has Physics the period after us."

William is more worried about how much Collin's uselessness is going to affect his marks than about when Lizzy Bennet has Physics. "You know you don't have to wear those safety goggles today, right?"

Collin nods. "I know, but Jessica said I looked good with them on."

He's pretty sure that Jessica, whoever she is, was lying through her teeth, but decides not to say so.

Minutes later, the teacher announces that Lizzy Bennet will be joining their class.

* * *

He tries to pay attention in Economics, and though he's staring at supply and demand graphs, all he can think is that Lizzy Bennet is probably following him.

* * *

"Why did you change your schedule?" he asks as soon as she throws herself into her seat in Government.

Lizzy Bennet never simply_ sits _down in her chair. She collapses into it, launches herself at it, falls into it, but never simply _sits_. She also makes as much noise possible; the legs of her chair scrape the floor as she pulls the chair out, her backpack drops to the ground with a loud thud, her mouth gives a huff or a sigh or a noise, sometimes her knee will bang into the bottom of the desk, and then the chair will give the floor a closing scrape. Lizzy Bennet is anything but subtle.

"I don't think that's any of your business." She gives him a triumphant smile, which does nothing to ease his suspicions that she simply changed her schedule to drive him crazy with curiosity.

He narrows his eyes. "That's very mature," he mutters sarcastically.

"It should be. It's a line I stole from some seventy-year old guy." She gives him a smirk before pulling a notebook and some pencils out of her backpack.

He spots an alarming array of colors in her pack – markers, pencils, pens, paints, even some ribbons – and it distracts him momentarily. "Why do you have all that?"

Lizzy peers in her backpack, as if she's perhaps forgotten what's actually in there. "I'm in Art."

William frowns. "You have Art and Creative Writing? Two electives?"

"Yeah. Most seniors have two or three electives. Don't you?"

"No."

She shrugs. "It's probably because you have to take more core classes to meet the graduation requirements since you transferred from London. I'm guessing they're different there, right?"

"Yes," he concedes as he watches her try to arrange all her art supplies in her backpack so that they're remotely organized. It seems like an impossible task. "You have to carry all that around with you all the time?" He asks incredulously.

"No," she answers. "We have cubbies in the art studio to keep our stuff in, but I like to use them when I'm not at school."

"Why don't you just buy two of each, then?" he wonders aloud.

Lizzy gives him that look of hers that makes him feel like an idiot, like he's missed something again. He hates it. "Because art supplies are expensive."

The bell rings and William turns away from her to look at the teacher. He doesn't know why he bothers to ask her questions in the first place. He's always left feeling like he has even more questions than he started with.

* * *

William doesn't really notice it until too late, but they're walking together. It makes sense that they would, since their destination and starting points are the same, but he can't help but be a little unnerved by it.

The hallway is packed with students racing to get out of the school. Lizzy is not talking, but at one point, they're walking so close that her shoulder presses against his upper arm. He can smell the citrus and mystery flower in her hair, and even when she moves away from him, the smell lingers.

It's raining outside, and from the corner of his eye, he sees her eyes brighten and her lips quirk up at the sight.

Girls crowd around him as soon as he's outside, and Lizzy is forced to leave his side and weave around them.

"Want to share my umbrella, William?" a blonde girl asks him.

"I have one," he tells them, hoping his clipped tone will deter them.

"Well, I don't," another girl says, eyelashes batting. "Do you mind if I share with you?"

"We're all standing under a roof," he reminds them, annoyed. Did these girls have no dignity to maintain? "I think we're all fine without an umbrella.

Their faces are all disappointed, though he can see the way their eyes turn pensive, and he knows they're probably making withdrawals from the bank of mindless things they can say to him that he has no interest in. William quickly makes his way past them before they can start talking again and stands near Lizzy.

She's staring at the rain with a wistful look on her face and doesn't look at him when she says, "They're going to start thinking you like me."

"Well, I don't," he tells her bluntly.

Lizzy smiles. "Because I know about your mom."

"You know nothing about my mother." He keeps his voice calm even though his heart begins beating at what must be an unhealthy rate.

She finally turns her light blue eyes to look at him. They look almost gray against the backdrop of the sky. "So tell me."

He grits his teeth. "What difference does it make?"

"None, maybe." Lizzy shrugs. "But maybe if you told someone, you wouldn't be so sad all the time."

"I'm not sad." He's numb. He's empty. He's angry. He's annoyed. He's not _sad_.

"If you say so."

* * *

William begins ignoring Lizzy Bennet. It's not that difficult, mostly because he has a sneaking suspicion that she might be ignoring him too.

She sits with her back straight in front of him and never turns around to talk to him in Creative Writing. They haven't been assigned any essays since the one about loss. Mr. Lucas spends most of the class enlightening them on some of the ways to write _from the soul_. What the ways are, William really couldn't tell you because he's still spending the class period trying to figure out what flower her hair smells like.

At lunch, he sits with Charles and purposely never looks to the corner where he knows she's sitting.

He is too busy correcting Collin's mistakes to pay Lizzy Bennet any attention in Physics.

It's Government that's the hardest. She sits close to him and she's always doodling things in the margins of her notes.

William begins to notice things about her, by covertly watching her with his head turned ever so slightly in her direction so that he can watch her and watch the teacher at the same time. She's right handed, he's almost sure, but sometimes she writes with her left hand and he can't see the difference in the handwriting. Her letter Gs look like Ss sometimes, and none of her letters are ever on the lines. Sometimes she has paint splatters on her neck or arm or cheek. She wears these markings on her skin like battle scars, and he can't help but wonder what sort of battles she's been in.

Then he notices that he's very much _not_ ignoring her, so he takes notes with more vigor, writing quickly and pressing his pen to the notebook so hard that the tip scrapes against the paper loudly enough to drown out the way his heart thumps in his ears.

William is ignoring Lizzy Bennet, and, if he's honest, he'd tell you it's proving much more difficult than he thought.


	7. Breaking My Stride

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Seven: Breaking My Stride**

_This love isn't good unless it's me and you  
Box after box and you're still by my side  
The weather is changing and breaking my stride  
I know, I know, I know, it's just this day_

Tegan and Sara_; I Know I Know I Know_

_

* * *

_

_The ring of the phone wakes William from his slumber. He gropes for the phone blindly with one hand and the lamp switch with the other, all while wondering who on earth could be calling him at this hour. He's too slow, and the phone stops ringing as soon as his hand finds it. _

_He blinks lazily and squints at the clock. It's 4:04AM, which means it's 8:04PM where she is, assuming she's where he left her, which knowing Lizzy, isn't a safe assumption at all. _

_With the phone in his hand, he falls back on the pillows. He doesn't look at the phone just yet, choosing instead to hold onto hope that it's her that's calling him, perhaps calling to tell him that she forgives him, that she wants to start over with him, that she loves him back. He'd settle for maybe calling him to hear his voice, the way he often longs to hear hers. It's impossible, of course. His contact information has changed over the years, and apparently, so has hers._

_Then again, he's a lot easier to find than she is. He's practically a celebrity these days, but Lizzy Bennet? She's disappeared off the face of the goddamn planet, it feels like. William has heard little of her whereabouts since they parted ways all those years ago. He knows, though, that if she wanted to find him, she'd be able to. Lizzy Bennet has always been resourceful. So he can only assume that she doesn't want to find him, and he's trying to respect that and move on with his life like he promised he would._

_It's just that he can't help that every time he closes his eyes, he sees her pretty face, her stubborn hair, her fierce eyes – the ones he could never look away from, never walk away from. Her eyes, and hers alone, witnessed his emotional explosion that day. It tied her to him in a way that neither of them could have possibly foreseen. Everything he had been keeping to himself, everything he hid from others, every word and emotion he had swallowed down since his mother died…it all erupted. _

_He knows now, years later, that he had really just been a ticking time bomb, and it was only a matter of time before an explosion would occur. William understands now that he had picked a fight with her that day just hoping for an excuse to lash out. He also knows it could have happened in front of no one else but her. No other girl – no other person – had the power to make him fall apart like that. _

_Only Lizzy. _

_

* * *

_

_All _he can think is that he doesn't know why he's even out here.

It repeats in his mind on a loop, and he knows the only way it'll stop is if he figures it out, but he _really _doesn't know.

There had been a week and a half of beautiful, warm sunshine, a week and a half of successfully ignoring Lizzy (as successful as one can be when trying to ignore a girl who had a very strong personality and shared three classes with him). Then, out of nowhere, the sky opens up and it _pours_.

It's raining almost as hard as the day he arrived here. He's standing on his porch, for reasons that are completely lost to him now, when she walks by in the raincoat and boots he recognizes from the first time he'd seen her. He won't admit that he's been standing here watching the water fall from the sky for the past twenty minutes because he's been waiting for her. He _won't_.

Today she's not dancing, simply walking at a rather brisk pace. She doesn't even notice him until he finds his voice and shouts at her.

"Lizzy!"

Her head jerks in his direction, confusion written all over her face. Her dark hair is matted to her forehead, and she has to squint because water droplets are dripping from her long eyelashes into her eyes that he _swears_ are the same color as the sky today. Lizzy hesitates for a few seconds before walking up to where he's standing under the protection of his roof.

"What are you doing?" she asks, crossing her arms. The rubber of her raincoat makes ugly noises at the movement.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replies.

She scowls at him. "Well, I asked you first."

William doesn't think that's a good enough reason to have to answer, so he doesn't.

Lizzy shakes her head; her mouth is a thin line. "I don't know why you're suddenly talking to me now."

Neither does he, honestly. He had been doing so well. "Where's your stupid, pink umbrella?"

"At home." Her scowl deepens and her eyes flash dangerously.

"It's raining."

"_Excellent_ observation, Darcy."

He can never tell if she's purposely annoying or if it's just a personality trait that can't be helped, like a medical condition or something. He doesn't know which he'd prefer. "Why didn't you bring it?"

She shrugs. "Because I like walking in the rain."

"Why?"

"What's not to like?"

"Everything."

"So go back inside," she turns her back to him and begins to walk away.

William has to take a few minutes to decide what his next course of action will be. He certainly can't go inside now, as he doesn't want her to think she has any say over what he does and doesn't do. Then again, if he follows her, that might seem like he _wants_ to talk to her, which he doesn't.

She's far away by the time he makes up his mind to go after her, and he has to run to catch up to her.

The sound of his slightly heavy breathing and footsteps on the pavement is probably what makes her stop and face him. They stand on the sidewalk, soaking wet, glaring at each other.

He doesn't know why he's even out here.

"What do you want?" she asks, her voice is shaky.

William notices her eyes are red and she's sniffling. He realizes some of the wetness on her face isn't from the water falling from the sky. He should have just gone inside.

He doesn't know why he's even out here.

"Well?" she demands, throwing her arms up. "What did you leave the comfort of your porch for?"

There's a tremble in her fingers, a tremor in her voice, and the sadness written on her face is clear like the tears running down her cheeks, despite her attempts to mask it with anger. He wants so badly to find something to say, but he can't find the words and his voice doesn't seem to be working anyway. He just stares.

"Just go away, Darcy. You couldn't possibly understand what I'm doing even if I told you." Her shoulders go limp and she gives one last sniffle before turning around again.

He doesn't know why he's even out here.

"Why are you so moody all the time?" He asks suddenly, recklessly. William knows this is a dangerous question that will piss her off. It's a question she probably won't answer, which is fine because it's not really an answer that he's seeking. He just wants a reaction that's better than the spiritless ones he's been getting.

She sucks in a breath loudly and turns on her heel to face him. "_What_?"

"You _are_," he insists. "At least once a week, you walk around with a stick-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence! I am not the one-"

"The fact that you're so defensive about it says a lot about the truth behind my-"

"You want to talk about _me_ being moody? _You're_ the one with a permanent scowl on your face! You're the-"

"Oh, I have the scowl? This is coming from someone-"

"-that sits with the nicest boy in school at lunch but never even _talks_. You-"

"-glares daggers at anyone who-"

"-talk to _anyone_! I don't know how things were back in England, or if your mother ever taught-"

Her words hit a nerve, and that nerve shatters into a million, trillion pieces. "_My mother died!_"

His voice is loud and crystal clear. It breaks in the middle of the last word, but other than that, there's been no quiver. You'd almost think that he had this planned all along.

He hadn't.

He doesn't know why he's even out here.

There's a strange sense of a weight being lifted off his chest, making it easier for him to breathe. It feels perhaps like he's been a teapot set on a hot stove for the past few weeks, and he's finally able to give off a loud, screeching whistle to announce he's had enough, enough, _enough_ of this heat.

Half of him is relieved that it's out there, and the other half of him is screaming that there is no way this can be taken back now. Every cell in his body feels heightened and _alive_ for the first time in weeks. He's aware of every movement he makes. He can feel his lungs expand to take in more air, his fingers twitch ever so slightly in anticipation, and his eyes study hers for something that he won't be able to identify until he sees it.

The look on her face tells him that she can't believe he said that anymore than he can.

William doesn't know what compelled him to say it, but it makes her stop, and maybe that's why he said it in the first place. He's sure that Lizzy thinks she knows everything, she thinks she knows who he is and what he's going through, but she has no fucking clue. Maybe he said it because, _for once_, he'd like _her_ to be the one that's shocked and confused and in a situation where she has no stable footing.

Maybe that's twisted, but maybe he doesn't care.

Maybe he said it because he can't stand the fact that he_ hasn't_ said it. It's on his mind every single_ fucking _day, but he hasn't been able to say it out loud to anyone yet.

Maybe he says it because he just wants her to know.

He doesn't know why he's even out here.

"About a month and a half ago," he continues when it's clear she's not going to say anything and when he's absolutely sure he has control over his voice. "We moved here a week after she died, the day after her funeral."

She blinks twice. "I'm sorry."

Her voice holds no emotion and her face is as readable as a blank slate.

William doesn't know what reaction he was expecting from her, but he expected _more_ than this. If he had told any of the other girls, he's almost sure they would have tried to hug him and comfort him, but all he gets from her is an _apology_? "I just told you where my mother is like you wanted and all you have to say is that _you're sorry_?"

"What else do you want me to say?" She uses the sleeve of her raincoat to wipe at her eyes. "Are you looking for pity? Is that what you-"

"Of course that's not what I want!" he shouts at her.

"Well, then I don't know why-"

"My mother _died_!"

"I _heard_ you the first time! Stop yell-"

"So_ act_ like it!"

"I don't know what kind of reaction you want from me!"

"Something better than _this_!"

"_This _is all I have! I don't know why you even told-"

"Because you asked me where my mother is!" He's red in the face from yelling, but so is hers.

Lizzy looks shocked. She stands in front of him, her chest rising and falling at an uneven pace. Neither of them says a thing, the raining is beating down on their heads, and off in the distance, thunder rumbles. Finally, Lizzy announces, "I'm going to the park."

"The park?" he repeats incredulously.

"Yes." She peers at him cautiously. "Do you want to come?"

He nods and begins to follow her. William feels like his senses are heightened now that he's had some sort of release. The raindrops feel lighter on his skin, the sound of the ground crunching beneath his shoes is louder, the smell of citrus and flowers is stronger.

They say nothing for the first five minutes of the walk. Lizzy looks straight ahead and quietly asks, "How did she die?"

William swallows. "She was in a car accident."

"So it was sudden." It's not so much a question, as a statement.

"Yes," he affirms anyway.

"Why did you move here so soon after she died?"

"My father wanted it." He sighs. "My father had been planning to expand the company. It wasn't supposed to happen for another year or so, when I was away at Oxford, but then my mum died, and he saw no reason to stay in London anymore."

"But the business in London…"

"It's being run by my uncle. It was supposed to be that dad continues to run the office in London and my uncle the one here. My dad was to travel a lot here in the beginning, to help with the expansion, but mainly he'd be in London. My mum didn't want to leave London. Then there was a car accident, and my dad chose to see it as an opportunity, rather than a tragedy."

"He had no ties to London?"

"Of course he did. He's just very ambitious. He's also an opportunist. He saw an opportunity, and he took it. Simple as that."

"What about you and your sister?"

He shrugs. "We were expected to follow."

"Oh. That…sucks."

"Nicely put," he snorts.

"I'm sorry."

"Yes, you've said that already."

"Well, what else is there to say?" She looks exasperated.

"Nothing, I guess," he concedes. Her reaction is starting to make more sense. There's really nothing to say.

* * *

They sit silently side by side on the swings at the vacant park. The rain is still pouring down their heads.

"You don't have to stay, you know," Lizzy says, tilting her head back. "You look bored."

William wonders how she'd know how he looks since her eyes are closed. "Why did you invite me here?"

"Why did you come?" she challenges. When he's silent, she gives in and answers his question softly. "I invited you because…because I can't tell you anything to make you feel better about your mom dying. I'm not going to feel sorry for you. I know you don't want that. I'm just going to treat you like I normally would, and normally, I guess I'd invite you to come here with me."

He allows the words to be poked and prodded in his mind, searching for some fault in her logic, but finds none. Her eyes are still closed and her head is angled at the sky, so he feels safe when he openly studies her face, which is still blank. Against his own will, he finds himself more grateful than annoyed with Lizzy.

"What made you come here?" His voice sounds tired, but maybe it's really his mind that's tired of his voice.

"I needed to get out of my house," she answers simply.

He wants her to elaborate, but he thinks he understands without her doing so. After all, almost every one of his visits to this park has been because he needed to get out of his house too.

"My mom's going to sell a bunch of my dad's books." She says this softly, and her face remains unchanged except for the very subtle wrinkle in her brow. William thinks he may be paying too much attention to her face if he can notice something that small, so he looks away just as she continues to speak.

"He had this huge library, back at our old house. It was filled with books and just so… beautifully cluttered. I remember I'd go in there to get away from all the yelling. I would just sit there with him, and we'd both stare at each other, and I'd breathe in the smell of books and cigars."

She swallows audibly. He can hear it over the pitter-patter of the rain. "I can't smell a library book without thinking of my dad." The metal links in the chain clink and he's guessing that she's shifting around, though he's not looking at her. "Anyway, my mom sold a lot of the books after he died, mainly because she couldn't look at them without crying a river, but we kept all the first editions. Now she wants to sell those too."

He hazards a peek at her. Lizzy has her eyes open now, staring at something in the distance that he can't see. "They're worth a lot, and we could really use the money. Mom says it's not like he's coming back to read them, and I just blew up at her. We got into this awful fight about it. That's why I left."

Lizzy takes a deep breath, and he can see that her lip is quivering. "It just feels like we've sacrificed so much, and the books are all I really have left of him, just books and memories. Jane says we don't have to sell all the first editions. She's always been a peace maker."

She quickly turns away from him, and he can hear a sob escape from her throat.

He sits there, on the swing, listening to the rain fall and listening to Lizzy Bennet try to pretend like she isn't crying, until the two sounds mingle together. William feels uncomfortable and has no idea what to do in this situation.

He raises his arm, perhaps to pat her on the shoulder and say something meaningless like, "There, there," but he changes his mind. His arm hangs in midair and the words die before they really had a chance.

William wonders how long they've been here, and knows he should probably get home since he has a piano lesson at some point this afternoon. He rises off the swing, and looks down at Lizzy, not sure what to do with her.

She looks at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"Come on," he says gruffly, before he starts walking toward his house.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm going to get sick if I stay in this rain any longer."

Silence is her response, and though he continues walking, he takes smaller steps to give her time to make up her mind about following him.

Eventually she does, and they walk to his house in an almost-comfortable silence.

She looks a bit unsure when they approach his door, and he can't help but feel a tiny bit smug for finally being able to shake her confidence.

"William!" Mrs. Reynolds exclaims as soon as he opens the door. "What happened?"

"I lost my umbrella," he lies easily, gesturing for Lizzy to enter when she simply stands on his porch, looking doubtful.

"What were you doing in the rainstorm at all?" she asks, rushing to take his coat. "You and your friend need to get out of those wet clothes. You'll both catch your death!"

"That's really alright," Lizzy says, reaching for the doorknob. "I should really just go home."

"Did you drive here?" Mrs. Reynolds has her hands on her hips as she accesses Lizzy's appearance.

"No," Lizzy replies slowly. "But it's really not-"

"Absolutely not! We'll get you dry and then have Nathan drive you home, dear. Lizzy, right? We met outside a few weeks ago?"

"Yes." Lizzy bites her lip. "I really-"

"William, go get your friend some dry clothes while I go find some towels."

He sighs and motions for her to follow him. When she hesitates, he says, "Let's go."

"It's really not necessary. I don't need-"

"She won't let you leave, so let's get this over with." He doesn't know why she's even protesting so much. Most girls would love this.

"Why did you even bring me here?" she mutters, although she starts moving her feet.

"You're the one that came in," he smiles, happy that their roles seem to have reversed and she's the one that is uncomfortable.

She's quiet as she follows him up the stairs, but just before he opens the door to his room, he hears her mumble, "What else are you supposed to do when someone leads you to their house and opens the door?"

William chooses to ignore her comment as he digs through his dresser for something suitable for her to wear. He pulls out shirt he's never worn and a pair of gym shorts for her.

"The bathroom's that one right there." He points to a door with one hand and hands her the clothes with the other. "There should be some clean towels in there too."

Lizzy is hesitant when she takes the clothes, and she turns back to glance at him several times on her to the bathroom.

As soon as the door shuts, he pulls out another shirt for himself. He's just got his head through when there's a soft knock at the door.

"William?" Mrs. Reynolds calls from the other side.

William quickly pulls his arms through the shirt and kicks the quilt further under his bed before calling for the housekeeper to enter.

"I've got extra towels and a bag for Lizzy to put her wet clothes in. Do you need anything else?"

"No, thank you."

"Shall I cancel your piano lesson today?"

"My father will be angry if I miss it," he says, though he knows that's not an answer.

"It starts in half an hour. Your instructor will be here soon."

His eyes widen. William had not been aware that he'd been gone that long.

Mrs. Reynolds reads his expression easily. "Are you sure you don't want me to cancel it?"

"No, thank you." He doubts he'll be able to perform well today though.

"Miss Georgiana should be back from her play date with Miss Alyssa-" Mrs. Reynolds stops when she sees Lizzy open the door of the bathroom. "Hello, dear. Feel better now that you're all dry?"

Lizzy blushes. She looks absolutely ridiculous in his clothes. The shorts he let her borrow fall to her mid calf and the plain green shirt hangs on her body in a way that's as flattering as a potato sack. "Yes, ma'am."

Mrs. Reynolds looks between him and Lizzy and then nods. "I will leave you two alone. Do let me know or Nathan know when you are ready to go home, Lizzy."

William picks up a clean towel from the stack the housekeeper left, pulls a pair of pants from his dresser, and walks to the bathroom.

Lizzy moves out of his way, but still looks unsure.

"You can sit down over there." He jerks his head in the direction of his desk chair and goes into the bathroom without watching to see if she actually does.

He dries his hair with the towel as best he can and peels off his wet shoes, socks, and pants before putting on the dry pair. When he emerges from the bathroom, he suddenly realizes something.

Lizzy is the first girl he's brought to his room without the intention of kissing. He's had a total of four girls in his room, excluding Lizzy, and every single one of them ended up under him, on top of him, or next to him, glued to his lips and in varying states of undress. William feels his face heat up as he looks at Lizzy, who is sitting innocently in his chair, looking around his room with a curious expression on her face.

The idea of kissing her does odd things to his stomach, and he can't say it's exactly unpleasant. It's not pleasant either though.

"My father didn't bring any of my mother's things over from London. The things that the servants at home did ship, he shipped back because he said we didn't need them anymore." William tells her that so that he has something to get his mind off of the idea of his lips on hers.

"So you don't have anything of hers?"

Her response is unexpected, and he can't read the expression she's wearing on her face.

"I have a quilt, and a few photographs somewhere."

She doesn't ask him why he doesn't have the pictures in his room, and he's glad, because he doesn't know if he can answer that.

"You going to go back to ignoring me tomorrow?" Lizzy asks him, inspecting her nails with false fascination.

"Do you want me to?"

Lizzy shrugs. "Whatever."

William can't tell if she's indifferent or just really good at playing indifferent. "This doesn't make us friends."

"What does it make us then?"

He doesn't have an answer to that either, so he hands her the bag Mrs. Reynolds brought. "You can put your wet clothes in here."

She stands to take the bag from him. William notices that she's tied the excess of the shirt into a knot so that it fits her better. He also notices that her wet bra has left alluring water spots on the shirt and has to force himself not to stare.

"No one likes you, you know," Lizzy says once she's done putting her clothes away.

Of all the things he expects her to say, that certainly isn't one of them. He tells her so.

"Well, it's true."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"So you know how lucky you are to have me." She gives him a cheeky grin.

William rolls his eyes. "I have plenty of girls to choose from."

"You've chosen none of them." Lizzy reminds him. "They hate you for it."

"However will I sleep?"

She looks stunned for half a second, but then she throws her head back and laughs. "Is that a_ joke_, Darcy? God, I haven't heard you crack one…ever!"

Almost against his own will, he finds himself smirking. "No, I'm quite serious, Lizzy."

"Right. That's all you ever are." She shakes her head at him, her lips still curved up.

William begins to feel uncomfortable with the uncharted direction of their conversation. He clears his throat. "You ready to leave? I have a piano lesson soon."

"Okay. Thanks for…" She trails off uncertainly.

"Don't mention it," he replies, having no need for her to finish her sentence. "My driver will take you home. Just go down the stairs and turn left. Mrs. Reynolds should be in the kitchen."

"I can just walk home."

He shakes his head. "It's still raining."

"I know, but-"

"My driver will take you home," he insists as he opens the door for her.

She raises an eyebrow. "Why do you suddenly care now? Are we friends?"

"Hardly." He scoffs. "I told you, I have my choice of friends and-"

Lizzy snorts. "Like you could find one as cool as me."

William lays in his bed, in his room that smells ever so slightly like citrus and flowers, and he thinks that being friends with Lizzy Bennet wouldn't exactly be the worst thing in the world.


	8. The Skin I'm In

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Eight: The Skin I'm In**

_I like most liquor, but I don't like gin  
Don't always like the skin I'm in  
But when I get it wrong gotta start again  
But I love the way you move  
I love the way you move_

Dave Matthews Band_; Spaceman_

_

* * *

_

He hates Creative Writing. The first fifteen minutes are always spent doing writing exercises, which for William, are just fifteen minutes where he stares at a blank sheet of paper and trying not to choke to death on the scent of citrus and flowers.

* * *

"I'm taking Gee to the park today," he tells her as casually as he can from his locker.

She looks surprised when her head turns to face at him.

William usually has to go to his locker to switch books out and drop off the calculator that messes up the arrangement of items in his backpack. He knows she has to go through the same ritual, though he doesn't know what books and items she switches because usually she's just getting to her locker when he's leaving his.

"Was that an invitation?" One delicate eyebrow is raised and her eyes are bright with amusement.

"It's just a fact." William pretends to rummage for something his locker, even though he already has his everything he needs.

"Is it now?" she asks facetiously. "A fact between friends?"

He turns just as she's pulling out a thick book that he doesn't recognize. She hugs it to her chest like he's seen her do with other books, and her arms obscuring the title.

"More or less," he replies, trying to match her tone.

"I'll have to think it over then."

He thinks that's useless, since they both know she'll show up at the park. She should just say that she would be there and cut the bullshit. William considers telling her that Gee would be happy to see her, and as true as that may be, he feels that might be too much of a Caroline-like tactic, so he simply nods. "See you, then."

Her smile falters, probably not expecting that from him, but then she regains her lost footing and nods too. "Later."

* * *

Caroline decides to sit with Charles at lunch, and Charles doesn't tell her not to, much to the disappointment of all other occupants at the table.

"I just feel like I don't know all of Charles's friends," Caroline says. "I really need to spend more time with Charles since I'm going to be away next year at college, you know."

Luke mutters something rather unintelligible, but William is sure he heard, "Thank God."

"Where are you going to go?" Aaron, the other boy, William finally learned his name after a few days, asks politely.

"Oh, I don't really know yet," Caroline shrugs. "I just have_ so_ many options."

"Have you taken your SATs yet?" Luke politely asks.

"Not yet. I need to sign up though. Senior year is just_ flying_ by!"

It hasn't even been three weeks yet. In fact, as he listens to Caroline ramble on about the advantages and disadvantages of living in sorority houses, he feels like time has actually stopped.

* * *

"Hey, William?" Collin ventures.

He angles his head slightly in Collin's direction to indicate that he's listening, though he knows Collin will continue even if he's not listening.

"Do you mind if I change partners?"

"Excuse me?" Part of him can't help but be insulted. If anyone should wish to change partners, it'd be _him_.

"I mean, see, I think I have a chance with this girl, and I'd really like to be her lab partner, you know, so we could get to know each other. You'd get to be partners with Meredith."

William is guessing Meredith is the one staring at their table with disgustingly hopeful eyes. She can't be any worse than Collin as a partner, so he gives an indifferent shrug, which Collin takes as an affirmative.

"Yes!" Collin pumps his fist in the air. "I'll let Mr. West know. Thanks so much for understanding!" He gathers his belongings and walks to the desk in the front and gives a thumbs up sign to Meredith.

The blonde girl with impossibly excited face takes his vacated seat and shoots him a bright, eager smile. "Hey, William."

He sighs. "Hello."

"I'm really excited about being partners."

"Do you know anything about Newton's Laws of Motion?" he questions her.

"Um." She blushes. "That-that's what we're studying now, right?"

"Yes."

"I have all the notes."

He shakes his head. That's not an answer.

Maybe he's just doomed to have idiot lab partners.

* * *

His marks are not where they should be. He's known this, of course, but sitting next to Lizzy in Government and seeing the 100 she gets on her quiz compared to his 67 really drives the fact home. He'll have to work harder, if only to show her that she doesn't get to win at everything.

* * *

"I'm working today," she informs him without preamble.

He turns his head away from the girls waiting for their rides. They're becoming fewer and fewer. It's relieving, honestly, even if it proves Lizzy is right about nobody liking him.

"So I won't be able to go to the park with you and Gee."

William nods, pushing away the feeling that resembles disappointment, which can't be right.

Today has just been an odd day.

He supposes that's what happens when you spend the previous afternoon in a rainstorm with a girl who is clearly crazy.

* * *

The ground at the park is muddy, but Gee still wants to swing and play, so he complies. They stay there until their shoes are caked brown and the sky is streaked with an array of warm colors surrendering into the dark.

* * *

When he arrives home, Mrs. Reynolds informs him that Lizzy drove by about twenty minutes ago to drop off the clothes she borrowed from him yesterday.

William opens the bag to find his shirt and gym shorts neatly folded and smelling faintly of laundry detergent and_ her_.

He throws the clothes in the hamper because he needs to get her smell out.

* * *

"I came by your house yesterday after my shift. Did Mrs. Reynolds tell you?" she asks him in creative writing the next day. Her voice is soft, and he notices that she looked around carefully before telling him this.

He wonders whose reputation she thinks she's protecting – his or hers. Not that talking to him would have a negative effect on _her_ reputation. No matter what she said about people liking him, he knew they _respected _him. That's all that matters really, according to his father anyway.

"Yes."

"So, are you going to be taking Gee to the park today?" She's turned around in her seat completely now, but her voice remains quiet.

"She's got a dance lesson and then some play date with a girl from her school." He narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

Lizzy shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "Because I might be at the park today. I have to do some still life drawings and I'm thinking about going to that spot where the hummingbird eggs are."

"Is that an invitation?" He struggles to keep his voice from sounding too eager. William won't admit it, but he rather likes this game they're playing.

"Of course not." Lizzy grins at him, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "Just a fact, shared between friends."

* * *

"William," Caroline coos, latching onto his arm from out of nowhere. He could have sworn that Charles was behind him in line, not his ridiculous sister. Charles eyes are apologetic when they meet his over Caroline's head. "I heard you were going to the park today."

"Where did you get that idea?" he asks calmly.

Caroline is not stupid, and they both know this. For all of Caroline Bingley's faults, she is not an idiot. So the _Oh, Come On_ look she gives him is very much deserved. "I heard you talking about it in first period today."

"I never said I was going to the park." That is the truth.

"You and Lizzy-"

"Lizzy was just telling me she was going to be at the park," he explains slowly, shrugging off her vice-like grip on his arm so that he can get his lunch. "I was there with my sister yesterday."

"Oh, how is darling Georgiana?"

William thinks that it should be said that_ he_ is not an idiot either, and he knows Caroline doesn't give two wits about his sister. "She's fine. Unfortunately, she's got a dance lesson today so I won't be able to take her to the park."

"So you're going to the park to hang out with Lizzy?" Her scathing tone doesn't match her innocent expression.

"I'm not going to the park at all." Actually, he just hasn't decided yet, but that really isn't anyone's business.

"Well, it's Friday, do you want to hang out with me and a few of my friends?"

Bollocks, is it really Friday? That means another weekend of being cooped up in the house with paperwork from his father. At least it gave him a legitimate excuse. "No thanks, my father's got me doing a few things for him all weekend."

Caroline pouts at him and he notices that her lips look rather sticky. "All weekend?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Are you sure? My sister Louisa is coming to visit and I think she'll buy us all alcohol if I ask her nicely."

William raises an eyebrow and glances at Charles, who is clearly shaking his head at him, though William's not sure if he's shaking his head because their sister won't buy them alcohol or because hanging out with Caroline under the influence of alcohol is a bad idea. "I'm sorry, Caroline. I can't."

He's so glad to be at the cashier that he almost walks straight through without paying. "Sorry," he mumbles as he digs in his pocket for his wallet.

He feels a temporary sense of relief when he's out of the line, but all too soon, Caroline is by his side again.

"Our usual table then?"

William wonders when his usual table became _their_ usual table.

* * *

Collin would not have been able to switch partners had they been in the middle of a lab assignment. Meredith tells him so. Apparently they're allowed to switch partners up, though most people choose not to, as long as it's not in between labs. She, like Collin and Charles, enjoys talking, and unfortunately for him, today they're not taking notes, but starting a new lab, which means she gets to talk as much as she wants.

William glances over at where Collin is standing next to Lizzy. He hadn't realized it was her Collin thought he had a chance with. Had he known, William might have asked the boy what made him think he possibly had a chance with Lizzy Bennet. Or maybe he might not have, because he doesn't want to appear too interested in Lizzy's affairs – because he's not, really, and it wouldn't do to appear interested when one is not.

"Don't touch that," Lizzy hisses as she slaps Collin's hand away. A few snickers from fellow classmates around them follow, but Collin remains unaffected.

"I'm sorry, Lizzy, sweetheart. I was only trying to help."

"Stop calling me that. I'm not your sweetheart!"

"Darling, I really think-"

"Shut up! Just sit down and don't touch anything!"

"Should I measure it now?" Meredith asks him, taking his attention away from Lizzy.

"Alright."

"Lizzy is a horrible lab partner," Meredith mutters as she unrolls the measuring tape. "She never lets me do anything."

"Use centimeters, not inches."

The girl blushes, but does as he says without protest or excuses. However, she doesn't hold the tape straight, so he has to correct her again.

He can't really blame Lizzy for not letting this girl do anything. She's proving to be just as useless as Collin.

* * *

Lizzy's already in her seat by the time he arrives in Government. She's also free of paint splatters today.

"You're here early," he notes.

"No painting today means no clean up." She's doodling in her notebook and doesn't look at him.

"I don't think you should talk about facts when we're in the same classroom as Caroline."

Lizzy's pencil stops moving and she looks up at him with narrowed eyes. "Afraid to ruin your precious reputation?"

The defensiveness in her tone surprises him since it was _her_ who spoke in quiet tones this morning. "More like afraid Caroline Bingley is going to know my whereabouts."

"Caroline hates the park," Lizzy tells him matter-of-factly.

"Well, she seemed pretty willing to accompany me there."

Her eyes roll. "Of course she was."

The bell rings, and his next question is forced to remain unasked as Mrs. Lane begins to speak.

"Why do you say that?" he whispers anyway.

"Shut up and pay attention. I'm kicking your ass in this class, you know."

He_ does_ know, and he does_ not _like to be reminded of it.

What's worse is now, if he does choose to pay attention, she'll think it has something to do with her and her carefully chosen words. If he doesn't, she'll surely be right about beating him in this class.

William has no idea how she manages to get him into these situations where he simply cannot win.

* * *

He's still so annoyed with her by the time the bell rings signaling the end of class that he purposely takes his time packing his things together and waits until she's completely gone from the room before he starts to walk. He doesn't want any chance of having to walk with her to wait.

To be sure, William makes a trip to the loo before finally going outside.

She's already left by the time he gets to his usual spot, but he feels no satisfaction.

* * *

William rings Charles to see if maybe he wants to play video games this afternoon or something, but Charles says he's got a "date type thing" with Jane. He hesitantly invites William along, and as pleased as William is that Charles would sacrifice alone time with Jane to be a decent friend to him, he decides to pass, believing that this would be his way of being a decent friend back to Charles.

He begins to wonder about those hummingbird eggs. Surely they must be hatched by now. Or crushed. Or eaten.

He's betting on the latter two and he wants to be sure, so he decides to go to the park. William is only going to see what the hell happened to those hummingbirds, and _that_ is a bloody _fact_.

* * *

Lizzy looks up when his foot snaps a tree branch. She's sitting in the dirt with her back against a tree, wearing blue jeans and a lavender colored blouse.

"Fancy meeting you here, Darcy." He can tell by the look on her face that she's been expecting him.

His rehearsed words are in his mouth and poised and ready to strike, but they don't. His powerful army of words cowers when it is met with Lizzy Bennet's soft gray-blue eyes (because he's realized two days ago her eyes aren't _light_ blue, they're _gray_-blue).

He clears his throat, ready to try again, but then she says, "I'm glad you came," and suddenly, though he'd never, never, _never_ admit it, so is he.

"Where are the hummingbird eggs?"

Her face becomes a little less sunny, and she looks down at her drawing pad. "The nest is over there. It looks like it's been stepped on or something though."

William walks over to where she gestured and again has to squint to see a nest. This time, though, it really is just a pile of dirt and twigs. He can see what is clearly an animal's footprint in what used to be a hummingbird's nest.

"Maybe they hatched before the nest got stepped on," William offers slowly, mostly because she's rubbing furiously at her drawing pad and it's making him slightly uneasy. Honestly, he thinks the eggs were eaten long before the nest was stepped on.

"I should have moved the nest when I saw it," Lizzy mutters, not look up at him, or even acting like she heard his words, words that were carefully chosen for _her_ benefit.

"Pardon me?"

"When I saw the nest, I wanted to move it into a tree or something, so it wouldn't get stepped on, but Jane said that maybe the mother wouldn't be able to find it or wouldn't want the eggs after my scent was on it."

William stares at her, wondering how she could truly be upset about not moving a nest of two hummingbird eggs. As if that would have made a difference in the big picture. Hummingbirds weren't even endangered species, who really cared if two eggs never got to hatch?

"I wanted to take them home and get a heat lamp and maybe get them to hatch myself," she continues. "But my mom would have probably thrown a fit. Or my crazy sisters would have tried to put make up on them or something."

He's beginning to think that Lizzy is just as crazy as Caroline, but in a completely different way.

"What would you have done once they hatched? How would you feed them?"

"I don't know," Lizzy admits. "I would have looked it up online, I guess."

"So, you would have taken them from their mother without a real plan?"

"Well, I should have done _something_!"

"Either way, it would have ended the same. They would have died. I'm pretty sure they lost the battle for life when their nest fell out of the bloody tree."

"That's not true. They fell out of the tree and didn't crack or anything! That's got to count for-"

"It counts for nothing when the nest gets stepped on," he cuts her off.

"They wouldn't have gotten stepped on if I had done what I wanted to and-"

"You live what? Half an hour away on foot? You think you could have walked home with a nest held steadily in your hand?"

"Just because you don't think-"

"Then you would have gone through the trouble of purchasing a heat lamp, _which_ by the way wouldn't have _worked_ since eggs need to be_ incubated_, not just heated, and then-"

"I would have found that out after I searched the internet!"

"Oh, brilliant. The internet!" he exclaims sarcastically. "Because the internet is just full of _reliable_ sources, not a bunch of people with elementary school educations pretending to-"

"At least I would have done something!"

"But you_ didn't_, Lizzy!" He cries. "You didn't do anything, and it wouldn't have mattered it you did. If that's something you're going to fret about, then I hope you're ready for a lifetime of fretting because there are always going to be situations where you can't do anything."

Her eyes narrow at him, her chin juts out stubbornly. "There's always something you can do."

"Sure, but it's not always going to be a solution."

"You should always try-"

"Trying doesn't always yield results."

"You won't _know_ that until you try though."

"The birds were doomed from the start and you know it. Feeling guilty about it is a waste-"

"I don't need you to lecture me and talk to me about how I feel. You have no idea how I-"

"It doesn't matter how you feel because it doesn't change anything. So you should stop feeling _anything_ about this and move on with your life."

Her nostrils flare as she lets out a harsh exhale. She grits her teeth and her jaw clenches. He expects her to continue defending her stupid eggs, but she simply looks down and continues drawing without another word.

William looks down at her drawing pad too, curious. He finds a pretty lifelike looking sketch of the trees and bushes in front of her. He also notices that her fingers are stained black from the rubbing of the paper.

He moves so that he's not directly obstructing her view, but can still see her face when he speaks to her. William refuses to sit though; the ground is soft and some areas are still wet and muddy. His trousers are much more expensive than her jeans that look like they belong in a garbage bin rather than on her person. They have more holes than he cares to count and stains of varying sizes and colors. He wouldn't be surprised if they simply disintegrated in the next hour or so.

"Don't you usually work on Fridays?" he asks, hoping this was a safe subject.

"Yeah, but Charlotte had something to do tomorrow, so we traded shifts. I totally forgot she was doing a double tomorrow though, so I kind of got the short end of that stick."

"How long have you worked there?"

"I got the job a few months after my dad died. It's my uncle's shop, and he let me have a job even though I wasn't old enough. I needed a distraction and my family needed money."

William wonders if he'll ever be able to say "a few months after my mother died" as casually as she can. Her eyes remain trained on her hands, and her face doesn't flinch. She says it in the same way she would say, "I'm going to the grocery store."

"How'd you get over it?" William asks cautiously.

She looks up at him, confused. "What?"

"Your..." He swallows. "Father dying."

Both her eyebrows lift, and she swallows too. "What? You want me to share my secret to getting over death with you?"

William frowns. "You seem like you're-"

"You don't get over it, Darcy," she says, her eyes suddenly hard. "Not really, anyway. You don't get over it. You never get over something like that. They tell you that you can, that you_ will_, and sometimes you believe them. You start having more good days than bad days. You think you're okay and that you've moved on, but then, right out of nowhere, you're hit with this stabbing pain and there's a gaping hole in your chest and you realize that a part of you will always be missing."

He struggles to keep his face impassive, but she has just confirmed his worst fears, that it'll always be like this.

"Sorry," Lizzy whispers, looking away from him.

"It can't always be like this," he says gruffly.

She shrugs and doesn't argue, but William knows that neither of them really believes that.

* * *

For the first time since it's been there, William decides take the quilt out its hiding spot. It's pushed so far under his bed that he's forced to lay on his stomach and reach his hand underneath and feel around for it. He supposes that's from the particularly violent kick he gave it the day Lizzy was in his room.

He closes his fingers around the softness of the fabric and tugs it until they're both on his bed. He shuts his eyes and presses his lips together tightly to prevent the escaping of anything that's not ready to be out yet.

The scent of his mother's perfume, of lavenders, fills his lungs as he inhales.

It's hard to breathe without feeling like he was suffocating. There's a sharp pain in his chest and his heart is beating so rapidly that he thinks it might break through his ribcage.

It's just like Lizzy had described at the park. There's a gaping hole in his chest, and there's no way to fill it.

William lays in bed with the quilt half wrapped around his left arm and half on his chest. He stares at the fan making circles until his eyelids droop to a close, and he has the first dreamless sleep he's had in a very long time.


	9. Never Let It Fall Apart

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Nine: Never Let It Fall Apart**

_Built a wall around my heart  
Never let it fall apart  
Strangely I wish secretly  
It won't fall down while I'm asleep  
If you don't know then you can't care  
And I show up but you're not there_

_- _Maroon 5_; Nothing Lasts Forever_

_

* * *

_

The words have been on the tip of his tongue all day. He tries to ignore them, because it's not really important. Not anymore, anyway. Not in the way that it used to be when he was younger and it meant he was given even more special treatment than usual.

Today didn't feel any different, and it might be because he hadn't acknowledged it. Or it might be because it's _not_ any different. Just another day.

He sits there silently watching Lizzy work on her drawing. It's the same one from the day before. She's in her work uniform today though. She looks tired, and her usual smell is masked by the smell he recognizes as the one from the yogurt shop.

It's purely coincidental that he's here with her. He'd been taking a walk around the park when he spotted her with her drawing pad, and she requested that he keep her company, so he does.

William will have to go home for dinner soon. It's more important today, though more for appearances than anything.

He sighs. "It's my birthday today."

Lizzy looks up from her drawing, surprised. She says nothing though, perhaps waiting for him to go on.

He doesn't. There's nothing else to really say. William just feels that he needs to say it, because it is a milestone, he supposes. He lost his mother at seventeen, and he learns to live without her at eighteen. That's the plan anyway. That's what he's hoping for.

He'll probably be disappointed this year.

Lizzy begins to rummage through her bag, her black fingers staining the already dirty fabric. "Are you doing anything to celebrate?"

"Mrs. Reynolds and the rest of the staff decorated the house and made me a nice breakfast. They bought a cake too, but we probably won't eat that until later. My father's taking me and my sister out to dinner."

William chooses not to mention the fact that he'll probably get his annual lecture about duty and honor and how those things are even more important now that he's a year older.

"That sounds nice," Lizzy murmurs as she extracts a pack of colored pencils.

He looks away and stares at the darkening sky. "Yeah."

They fall into another lull of silence. William begins going through a list of what he needs to do before dinner. Walk back, shower, fetch his nicest shirt and pair of trousers from where Mrs. Reynolds hung them, dig his new shoes out of the closet, find Gee and make sure she's dressed…He should probably leave right now, but he enjoys being here, where he is without any responsibilities.

"So, are you going to get a bunch of cool presents from your dad?" Lizzy asks conversationally.

"He usually just gives me money." William tries to catch a glimpse of the progress of her drawing, but she has her knees pulled up and her right arm is covering the drawing pad that's resting on them.

"That seems kind of lame."

That reaction is an unusual one, but William feels as if he should have expected it from Lizzy. "Why?"

She shrugs. "Well, don't you have access to a lot of money all year round anyway?"

"Yes."

"So, he's not really giving you anything you don't already have, right?"

William's never really thought about it like that. "I guess it's different because it's actually _mine_."

"Well, you-" She stops and blushes. Her left hand moves faster on the page, and she hunches her shoulders over the page more.

"What?" He attempts to take a glance at the page, especially when he notices that she's using a blue colored pencil now.

Lizzy catches on and scoots back, away from him. "Never mind."

"No, finish your sentence." His eyes narrow.

She sighs. "It's nothing. Where are you going to eat?"

"I don't know. We're taking the ferry to San Francisco and eating somewhere there." He won't admit that he's a little bit interested in the ferry. He hasn't been on it before. "Don't try to change the subject. What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," she insists.

"It's not like you to hold back," he observes, mostly because he knows she'll see it as a challenge, and he knows she can't resist a challenge.

William is right. She bites her lip and meets his eyes. "I was just going to say that the money isn't _really_ yours."

"What makes you say that?" He finds himself annoyed with her, even though he knows he was the one that wanted her to elaborate.

"Well, I mean, your dad gave it to you, but you didn't really earn it. It's not really yours."

"I'm a Darcy. It's mine by birthright," he tells her curtly.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her drawing. "Of course it is."

"I can understand why it's difficult for you to comprehend since-"

"Since what?" She looks up, her eyes flashing defensively "Since I wasn't born into royalty and don't have a huge trust fund? Since I wasn't born believing I was entitled to everything?"

"Yes, actually," he bites out. "I have a lot of money, and just because I have access to it doesn't mean I don't have to earn it. I might not earn it in a way that's familiar to you, but believe me, I do have to earn it."

Lizzy silently goes back to her drawing, which surprises him because it's not like her to give in.

His fingers twitch and he has to dig his feet into the ground to keep them from tapping impatiently as he waits for some kind of response from her.

Finally, she says, "I guess we've just grown up with different views of what it means to earn something." The comment comes out casually, without any malice or animosity. It sounds like an innocent observation, but it has a strange effect on him.

William has always known their different situations in life. It's been apparent since his first day in America when she was outside in the rain and he was trapped in his house. Her clothes are wrinkled, her school supplies are old, and her attitude is unrestrained. He has more money than she'll probably ever touch, but she has a sort of freedom that he doubts he'll ever know. This, however, is the first time she's really even acknowledged the space between where she is and where he is.

He thought that her finally acquiescing would be better for their almost friendship, but now that it's out there, he's not sure how he feels about it.

"Anyway," she continues, glancing up at him with a tentative smile. "You should tell Caroline it's your birthday. I bet she'd_ love_ to give you something other than money."

He recognizes that this is her way of changing the subject and perhaps even being sorry for bringing it up. "I don't doubt it."

Lizzy tears the page she's working on out of her drawing pad and folds it in half.

"Are you finished?"

"Hmm?"

"With your drawing," he clarifies.

"Oh, no." She turns the drawing pad to him and he sees that she's done nothing with it. The picture she's been working on looks exactly like it did when he last saw it.

"What were you just working on then?" he gestures at the folded piece of paper in her hand.

She shrugs and quickly scribbles something on it, keeping it out of his line of vision once again.

This is getting annoying. Lizzy is probably only hiding her paper from him because she knows it bothers him.

"I should get going."

"Okay." She doesn't look up from whatever she's writing.

He stands and brushes the dirt off of his trousers. Just as he's turning to leave, she says, "Hey, Darcy?"

William looks down at her, finding her arm stretched out, offering the folded piece of paper out to him. He raises an eyebrow.

"Take it. It's nothing great, since I didn't have a lot of time, but…" She trails off.

He takes it from her hesitantly and realizes it's a birthday card. William doesn't know what to say.

"I didn't tell you it was my birthday because I wanted-"

"I know," she cuts him off, her cheeks flushing.

William nods.

She gives him a small, genuine smile that is more in her eyes than on her lips. "Happy birthday, Darcy."

* * *

Dinner is as predictably elegant and boring as he expected. Honestly, if he were to be asked what his father is saying, William wouldn't be able to tell you because he's only catching bits and pieces. Words about pride, honor, duty, and money are strung together in a way that has no effect on William whatsoever. He's heard them all his life.

His thoughts are elsewhere tonight.

Lizzy's hastily made card is folded into quarters and stuffed into the pocket of his other trousers. He doesn't know why he didn't look at it on his way home, but he regrets it now because it's been on his mind throughout dinner.

* * *

The first thing he does when he gets to his room is go to his hamper and fish out the card.

The front has a picture of two colorful birds with long beaks which he can only assume are hummingbirds, fluttering under a pink umbrella. He opens it and finds a short message scribbled in her messy scrawl.

_One day, you'll have a birthday where you remember your mother and feel no pain from losing her, only appreciation for the time you had with her. That's my birthday wish for you. Happy birthday. _

Her words are simple and barely legible, but they affect him in a way that his father's words and money didn't.

William stuffs the card underneath his bed with the quilt

* * *

.

Sunday finds William catching up on homework and filling out paperwork so that he can start coming into his father's company.

He resists the urge to reach under the bed.

* * *

The days get easier. He hadn't expected them to, but they do.

* * *

William doesn't mind Creative Writing so much anymore.

Today, they're writing about something they hate. William has chosen Physical Education. He talks about how it's supposed to be a good physical outlet, but the people in his class and the activities chosen provide no challenge for him whatsoever. Basketball and dodge ball have nothing on cricket and rugby.

It's not a great essay by any means, but it's received more effort than anything else he's written in this class. He tells Lizzy this when they're waiting for their rides after school.

It's the first thing concerning Creative Writing that he's shared with her, and rather than being grateful, she laughs. "_That's_ what you chose to write about?"

William narrows his eyes. "What's wrong with what I chose?"

"Nothing, I guess." Lizzy gives him an indulgent smile. "People will probably be able to relate."

"What hour do you have PE?"

"I don't have PE."

"_What_?"

"I don't-"

He cuts her off. "I heard you the first time."

"Well, then why'd you-"

"Why don't you have PE?"

She shrugs. "You only need three years of it to graduate, don't you?"

He groans. Another drawback of switching to the American education system in his final year.

Lizzy snickers. "You should add that to your essay."

"I will," he assures her before he realizes that she's making fun of him again.

* * *

"William," Caroline coos, though it sounds more like a whine to him. "We should hang out this weekend. You never come by the house anymore."

"Charles hasn't been around," he replies as patiently as possible.

"That's silly, William. You know Charles doesn't have to be there for you to come over. I like video games too, you know."

Lizzy snorts from her seat in front of him.

Caroline narrows her eyes and her mouth becomes a thin line. "Did you have something to say, Lizzy?"

Lizzy turns around, a wide grin on her face. "Not really, no."

"If you have something you want to add, then go on," Caroline says in a sickly saccharine voice. "Just because you don't actually _pay_ to be here doesn't mean you have to keep your comments to yourself, no matter how worthless they may be."

Her grin doesn't change, but William can see Lizzy's eyes have grown colder. "You should really find some new material, Caroline."

"I have enough materials, thanks," Caroline snaps. "It's you that needs new material. You're the one wearing clothes from last season."

Lizzy rolls her eyes. "It's a uniform, Caroline. I'm pretty sure it's from last century."

"That's so plebian of you to-"

"Plebian?" Lizzy repeats, an eyebrow rises incredulously. "That's kind of a big word for you, isn't it? Guess Daddy's money isn't all going to waste on those SAT classes, though really, you should know-"

"At least I_ have_ a father."

William knows, even without the quiet gasps and Connor's mutter, "Low blow, Caroline," that the redhead's comments are completely out of line. Lizzy's face completely shuts down, but her shoulders tense up.

"You're the most pathetic human being I've ever met in my entire life." Lizzy's words are more resigned than hostile, and that concerns William more than it should. She turns around in her seat and sits with her back ram-rod straight while the rest of them sit watching her curiously.

* * *

Lizzy is not at lunch, and William hates that he cares.

* * *

"Where were you today?"

"When?"

"At lunch."

"In the art room, why?"

"Why weren't you in the cafeteria?"

She narrows her eyes. "I wanted to finish my painting."

"Really?" he asks. "Because I figured it'd be because of what Caroline said to you in class this-"

"Well, you'd be wrong." Her voice is unwavering and terse.

* * *

Lizzy is probably one of the most resilient people he's ever met. Though it's clear that snide comments from Caroline and others bother her, she's very quick to let them go and get over it.

William supposes that she's had a lot of practice and has developed a rather thick skin.

* * *

Meredith walks up to him as he waits with Lizzy for their rides.

"Hi, William."

"Hello."

"Lizzy, do you think you could give me a minute with William?"

This makes William nervous. Lizzy throws him an amused smile, which doesn't help.

"Sure." She walks a few feet away. It's far away enough to make Meredith believe that she's alone with him, but close enough to hear the conversation if she strains her ears.

"So, class was fun, today, right?" Meredith asks.

If she means that sarcastically, she might have more of a sense of humor than he originally thought. If she means it seriously, then she's an even bigger idiot than he originally thought. Today, she managed to break two springs and incorrectly transcribe the results from the third spring.

"Not really, no." He's completely serious, and he hopes she realizes this.

Her face falls, so William gathers that she does. "Sorry about the springs."

"What about buggering the entire experiment by writing down the numbers in the wrong places?"

She frowns. "That too."

They stand there awkwardly, and when William looks over at Lizzy, he sees that she's walking toward the silver car that normally picks her up. He can't help but feel a little jealous that she doesn't have to deal with things like this.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," Meredith announces.

William waits for her to continue.

"See, I'm not doing too well in Physics," she says hesitantly. "I think it's because there's too much math involved."

He hardly thinks that measuring and writing down results to plug into equations would be considered 'too much math,' but he decides not to argue, as that would probably lengthen this conversation that he really just wants to end.

"I remembered that Lizzy said something about the fact that Physics would be harder for us since we aren't taking Calculus."

"You and Lizzy aren't taking Calculus?" He had assumed that he and Lizzy took the same courses, just at different hours.

"No, Lizzy's taking Pre-Cal, and I'm not taking a math at all."

William's eyebrows knit together. "Why not?"

"Well, we're not required to take a math after Algebra II. Smart people like you take another math because they want to."

This amazes him. So, if his father hadn't insisted that he take Calculus, and he wasn't required to take PE, he would have three electives instead of one. Part of him is indignant at not having this option, but then he remembers the short list of electives and knows they'd have been no more use to him than PE is.

No wonder the Americans are behind.

Meredith begins wringing her hands together nervously, and William knows the reason she's here is about to be revealed. "I was just wondering if maybe you could…tutor me or something. You could come by my house or I could come to yours and-"

"No," is his simple answer.

Meredith bites her lip. "I know you really want to do well in the class, and I think the only way for that to happen is if you help me understa-"

"That's not the only way for me to do well in the class, and you know it."

If there's one thing he can't stand, it's girls pretending to play damsel in distress and expecting him to play prince charming. His mother couldn't stand it, and she taught him to hate it too.

She pouts. "Well, I think it's the easiest solu-"

"No, Meredith." He shakes his head. "No."

* * *

Lizzy is waiting for him on his porch when he arrives home. She's still in her school uniform, and William can only guess that she asked her mother to drop her off here. There's no other way she would have been able to get here so quickly on foot. Lizzy waves politely to Nathan before setting her eyes on him.

"Hey there, _Mr. Popular_," she says sarcastically.

He rolls his eyes. "Let me go inside and say hi to Gee before you make me tell you the story."

"Can I come? I haven't seen Gee in a while."

This surprises William, but he recovers quickly and nods.

Lizzy follows him inside to Gee's room, where his sister is writing at her desk. When she sees them, she jumps from her chair and runs to give them both hugs.

"Hi!" she exclaims excitedly.

"Hey Gee." Lizzy smiles.

"What are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to come say hi to you."

"I haven't seen you in a long time."

"Funny, I was just telling your brother the same thing about you."

"Well, really, we haven't seen _each other_ in a long time."

"Right. That's a much better way of putting it."

"Can I show you around my room?"

"Absolutely. I was just going to ask you to."

William watches their exchange with interest. He's never seen any of the girls he's brought home treat Gee this way. Most of them treat Gee as a means to an end, the end being him, obviously. Lizzy seems to genuinely enjoy conversing with his sister though.

"Did you bring me any frozen yogurt?"

She actually looks guilty. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't think to."

Gee pouts. "That's okay. Maybe Nathan can take me to the shop to get some."

"I work on Friday, you should come then."

His sister looks up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. William nods before she can even voice her question.

William's eyes meet Lizzy's delighted ones, and there's a strange fluttering sensation in his stomach.

* * *

"I never took you for one to shirk his prince charming duties," Lizzy comments when he's done with his story.

His sister has left for her dance lesson, and it's just him and Lizzy sitting cross-legged on his porch facing each other. His right hand is dangerously close to her left one. William thinks he should move it, but Lizzy beats him to it. She picks up her hand to run through her hair and doesn't put it back down when she's done.

"I have no duty to be prince charming."

Lizzy smirks. "You're right."

He sighs. "I hope Gee is never like that."

"She won't be," Lizzy says, all playfulness gone. "There's no way that'll happen. Not with you as her brother to keep her straight."

He nods, feeling slightly better.

"My dad never liked girls like that either," Lizzy tells him softly, looking at something over his head.

"So he'd be happy you're not like that."

It's probably the nicest thing he's ever said to her, and she tells him so.

William only shrugs, not sure how else to reply.

"So, do you really not enjoy all this attention you're getting from girls?" Lizzy asks him curiously after a few minutes of sitting in a comfortable silence.

"They're all so ridiculous, it's hard to be appreciative."

"Were girls like this back in England?"

Charles had asked him a similar question, so he doesn't have to think when he answers, "They were interested in me, but much less ridiculous about getting my attention."

Lizzy's eyes scan his face quickly before she says with a smile, "I can see you as a playboy."

Will rolls his own. "Hardly."

"Do you feel like you've changed much since you've been here?"

"Yes," he answers without thinking. "But only in the way that…"

"Only different in a way that losing someone could change you," Lizzy finishes in a whisper.

She's hit the nail on the head, and William doesn't feel he has anything of substance to add.

Lizzy moves the conversation back to safer grounds. "So what are you going to do about Meredith? Maybe you should try to divert her attention from you to Collin."

William doubts that would work. He can't see anyone choosing Collin over him.

"It's not as if I _asked_ for her attention."

"It's not like you ask for_ anyone's _attention," Lizzy laughs.

"Yes, exactly, so-"

"Darcy, have you _seen _you?"

"What?"

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?"

William gives her a scowl to cover up the fact that he has no idea what she's getting at. "Are you trying to imply that I have something on my face, Lizzy, because that's-"

"No. I like how that's the conclusion you came to though." Lizzy giggles. "I'm just saying that you're good looking."

He stares at her blankly, unsure why there's a baffling sort of fluttering in his stomach again. He's known, of course, that his looks were to his advantage, but he had never expected Lizzy to actually point it out so bluntly. William searches her face for an ulterior motive.

"Come on. You've got this ridiculous mass of dark brown hair." She reaches out and uses her fingers to touch said hair and the fluttering continues.

He moves out of her reach, scowl firmly in place.

This encourages her, which, really, he should have foreseen, but he had been occupied by the fluttering.

"Plus, you've got this nice, straight nose." She taps his nose with her index finger playfully. "I bet it's been passed on for generations. Just like your last name." She grins and taps it again. "Your sister has the same one."

"I know. I only see her everyday." William slaps her hand away. He's known that Lizzy was an affectionate person. He's seen her be that way with her sister, his sister, and even Charles sometimes, but this is the first time she's been so bold with him.

"You've got a wrinkle in your brow." Lizzy touches her own forehead, probably because his hands are still poised to strike her if she touches him again. "Probably from frowning so much, but, you know, it makes you look older. Girls love older men."

"Do they?" He says this just to have something to say, to distract himself from the fact that her proximity is beginning to bother him.

Lizzy nods. "You also have a nice strong jaw and high cheek bones. It makes for a very nice face."

He's never had anyone talk about his appearance so openly like this before. It's throwing him off.

"Your eyes are brown."

"I know."

"They're a nice, light brown color. It reminds me of toffee. Or coffee with too much cream in it, which is my favorite kind of coffee."

"Aren't you a bit young to be drinking coffee?" he asks weakly.

Lizzy ignores his comment. "You don't have wrinkles near your eyes though."

"That's a good thing. I'm only eighteen, you know."

"I know, but I think it means you don't laugh enough."

"Says you."

"Says me." Lizzy ruffles his hair. "Lucky you, having me around now to make you laugh."

Will rolls his eyes and slaps her hand away again. "You don't make me laugh."

"Liar."

"Why are you looking for wrinkles on my face anyway? Women spend thousands of dollars on products to get rid of wrinkles."

"I won't be one of them."

He remains stubbornly silent, knowing she wants him to ask her to elaborate. After a good two months of knowing her, he's beginning to understand how she works. So even though he's curious, he refuses to ask her.

Her smile makes him think that maybe she knows what he's up to too, but he thinks he might be giving her too much credit.

"Anyway." Lizzy shrugs. "If you want her to stop paying attention to you, I think the only way is to stop being so dashing, and I don't think that's possible for you."

The bloody awful fluttering comes back full force.


	10. Leaving Now Would Be a Good Idea

**When It Rains by everymonday  
Chapter Ten: Leaving Now Would Be a Good Idea**

_I wanna live a life from a new perspective  
You come along because I love your face  
And I'll admire your expensive taste  
And who cares divine intervention  
I wanna be praised from a new perspective  
But leaving now would be a good idea  
So catch me up I'm getting out of here_  
- Panic at the Disco_; New Perspective_

* * *

Gee squeezes his hand as they enter the yogurt shop. It's more crowded than it was the last time they were here, and William begins to wish he had accepted Nathan's offer to go in and order for them. Gee probably would have protested though, since her main reason for coming is to see Lizzy.

The shop is filled with people his age, though he doesn't recognize any of them. William searches the place for Lizzy, but finds Charles instead.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" Charles has a cup of yogurt in each hand, and raises one of them in a sort of salute.

"Hi, Charles!" Gee greets him happily.

"Hello, Gee. How are you?"

"Good. We're here to get yogurt and see Lizzy. What are _you_ doing here?"

"I'm getting yogurt as well."

"You have two cups," Gee observes.

"Yeah, this is for my friend." Charles uses one yogurt cup to draw their attention to a blonde he recognizes as Jane in the corner, conversing with a group of girls. "That's Jane."

"Are all these people your friends?"

"I know a few of them through Jane. We're going to a football game later."

William raises an eyebrow. Their school doesn't have a football team. "Are they from Jane's school?"

"Yeah," Charles answers. "I think we're going to leave as soon as we all finish our yogurt. Want to come?"

"No, thanks." His eyes are still on Jane, whose eyes haven't strayed from her friends to look at Charles at all.

"Okay, well, hey, we should hang out some time. My mom sent me a new game. I've been practicing, and I'm pretty sure I can kick your ass at this one."

"I doubt it, but you can try." William smiles.

Charles nods. "I better get going then. We'll figure out a time to hang out soon."

"Try not to let Caroline know."

"Of course." Charles rolls his eyes.

William watches the blonde maneuver through the crowd of people to get to Jane, who gives him a simple smile and scoots over to make room for him in the booth, before going back to chatting with her friends. She looks marginally less comfortable.

"There's Lizzy." Gee points.

He follows his sister's finger to find Lizzy speaking to an older man behind the counter. She nods her head and pats the man's shoulder, then begins to press buttons on the unoccupied cash register.

There are more employees here now, and William guesses it's because of the crowd. The last time he was here, there was only Charlotte and Lizzy. Today, there are two girls giving out sample cups and helping people get yogurt and two girls, one of them Lizzy, at the cash registers.

They get in line and wait to get their yogurt. Gee already knows what kind she wants, so she tells one of the girls that she doesn't need any sample cups.

"How about you?" the dark haired girl asks him, batting her eyelashes.

"No, I'm not getting anything."

"Are you sure there's nothing you want?" She begins twirling a strand of hair on her finger.

William scowls, uninterested. "Nothing, thanks."

He waits patiently for his sister to get her yogurt and hands her a five-dollar bill to pay, knowing she likes to feel independent.

"Hi, Lizzy!" Gee bounces happily and grins at Lizzy when they reach the register.

Lizzy meets his eyes briefly before she smiles widely at his sister. "Hey, Gee. I'm so glad you came. What kind of yogurt did you get?"

"Orange. Like last time." Gee hands Lizzy the money before she even says the total.

She accepts it without protest this time, though there is still some hesitation. William is sure she would have tried to turn the money away had it not been for the older man curiously watching their exchange from behind her. "You didn't want to try a new flavor?"

"No, I tried them all last time with the sample cups you gave me." Gee watches Lizzy press buttons on the register with curious eyes.

Lizzy extracts some coins from the register and puts them in Gee's much smaller hands carefully. "You liked orange more than all of them, huh?"

Gee nods her head as she accepts the change. "Yes. I mixed with apple last time, but I think I like orange by itself more. Which one is your favorite?"

"Orange is my favorite too."

"Really?"

"Yep. I guess we have a lot in common."

"That's why we're friends."

Lizzy laughs and nods. "Obviously."

"I have a funny story about oranges. Do you want to hear it?"

There's a line behind them, and Lizzy seems to realize this as her face falls slightly. "I really do, Gee. Can you save it for me? I don't want to keep the other people waiting or make Lily work more than me." She jerks her head at the girl on her left, who has seen three different people since they've been talking to Lizzy.

Gee pouts but replies seriously, "Yes. I'm sorry. I shouldn't bother you at work."

"Don't be sorry. It's my fault. I didn't realize it would be so busy."

"William's taking me to the park tomorrow. If you come, then you can hear the story," Gee informs Lizzy, her brown eyes big and hopeful.

Lizzy makes eye contact with William for the first time since she began talking to Gee. He gives what he hopes is an indifferent shrug.

"Okay. I'll come by tomorrow afternoon."

Gee smiles, satisfied. "Good."

* * *

William is beginning to think that Lizzy enjoys spending time with his sister more than with him. She laughs at Gee's stories, pushes her on the swings, and shares a bag of carrots with her. When Gee lays her head in Lizzy's lap, announcing that she needs a break, Lizzy doesn't even blink. She just begins to run her fingers soothingly through her dark hair, and doesn't pull away even after Gee falls asleep.

"She's a lot calmer than my sisters," Lizzy says softly.

"If your sisters are anything like you, I'm not surprised."

Lizzy chuckles.

"How old are your sisters?" he asks curiously.

"Jane is eighteen, Mary is fourteen, Kitty is thirteen, and Lydia is twelve."

"You're all very close in age."

"Yeah. Jane and I are the closest. We're ten months apart. We would have been farther apart, but I was born about a month early. Jane jokes that it's because I knew she needed me." She smiles briefly. "Mary and I are the farthest apart. Almost two years."

"Your parents probably needed a little bit longer to recover from you." William is only half joking.

"My dad used to tell me that." Lizzy runs her fingers, the ones that aren't buried in Gee's hair, through her own. "Apparently I was a handful."

"You still are." He steers clear of the subject of her father. It's safer this way.

Lizzy smiles. "You just don't know how to deal with me."

"In my experience, the best way is to just ignore you." Too bad it's _impossible_ for him to ignore her.

"Right. That's why you're hanging out at the park with me."

"_You're_ the one that chose to come," he reminds her.

"That's true," Lizzy concedes. "I like your sister a lot though."

There's an earnestness in her voice and eyes when she says this that William so rarely sees in other people. It's refreshing and bothersome at the same time.

"I like that you're so close to your sister," she continues.

"Aren't you close to yours?" He had been under the impression that she and Jane were quite close.

"I'm closest with Jane. I think it has to do with the fact that we're so close in age. Plus, she's such a good person that it's difficult not to be."

William thinks the adjective_ good _is a cop out, though he doesn't think it'd be wise to tell Lizzy this. It just seems like something you say about someone when they have no other worthwhile qualities. _He's incompetent, but he's such a_ good_ person_ or _she's an idiot, but she's got_ good _intentions_. From what he's seen of Jane, she seems to fit his theory.

"It's a little harder now," Lizzy is saying. "I'm at a different school so we don't talk and see each other as much as we used to. She's my favorite sister though."

"When did you start going to Meryton Prep?"

"My freshman year." Lizzy sighs. "It wasn't so bad when my dad was still alive. He had a way of keeping us all together, but I think back on it now, and I think it might have just been because he was sick. We felt obligated to all get along because it meant the house was quieter, and that's how he liked it."

"Is your house not quiet now?"

"No," Lizzy laughs bitterly. "Lydia and Kitty are at the age where they think the whole world revolves around them. They want to spend money we don't have and throw temper tantrums when they don't get what they want. Mary always feels left out because she's in the middle. Jane and I try to include her, but I guess we need to try harder. She doesn't feel like she fits in with Kitty and Lydia or with me and Jane, so she just plays her trumpet as much as possible. Unfortunately for the rest of us, she's not very good."

William wonders if Lizzy talks to people other than him. It sounds like she's wanted to rant about this for a while, but hasn't had an outlet.

"They're my family though." She sounds like she's feeling guilty for having said all that. "I do love them, they're just kind of hard to take sometimes."

"I understand," he tells her, and he does. He really does.

* * *

One day after school, William is just about to go across the street and knock on Charles's door when he spots Charles leaving of his house with Lizzy.

"Hey," Lizzy says when she sees him.

"Hey, William," Charles gives him a nod.

"Hello." He looks at Charles. "I was about to see if you wanted to try and beat me at that game you were talking about."

"Oh, I was going to go to Lizzy's to help her with her art project."

"That's okay, Charlie," Lizzy quickly interjects. "We can do it tomorrow or some other day if you made plans."

"What's your art project?" William asks before he can stop himself.

Lizzy looks surprised by his interest. "Oh, I'm doing a still life of him and Jane playing chess. Really, I'm just giving Charlie more excuses to hang out with my sister."

Charles pushes her playfully. "You told me you were giving your sister more excuses to hang out with _me_."

She smirks. "As if _either _of you need more excuses to hang out with each other."

He won't admit it, but William really hates the easy friendship Lizzy and Charles seem to have. He's known them both for a while now, and he can't seem to imitate the harmless teasing and effortless smiles they often to share. If it didn't make him feel like a petulant child, he'd admit that he hates feeling left out. "When's your project due?"

"In a few weeks. I just wanted to get a sketch done before I started doing the painting." Lizzy hesitates for a few moments, but then asks, "Do you want to come over and hang out too?"

William feels his eyes widen, wondering if she knows what he's unwilling to admit.

"I have my car," Lizzy tells him quickly, and for the first time, William notices the silver car in Charles's driveway. "So you won't have to walk, and I can bring you back."

"You should come, William," Charles encourages. "Unless you were really looking forward to losing to me."

He can't deny that he's a little curious about where Lizzy lives. It would also be interesting to see more of Jane and Charles's interaction. There's also the added bonus of not running into Caroline at Lizzy's house. So William finds himself agreeing even though he specifically remembers promising himself that he'd never get into a car with Lizzy Bennet driving again.

* * *

Lizzy's house is smaller than most houses he's seen, but bigger than he expected. It's the same eggshell white color as the other houses on the street, and from what he can tell, there's nothing truly distinguishing about it except that it belongs to her.

He follows her inside, and finds a cramped but well-lit room that looks very lived in. The sofas are covered with colorful throws and pillows, the coffee table is covered with open magazines and books, and the walls are covered with an eclectic collection of photographs and amateur artwork.

"Do you guys want something to drink?" Lizzy stops walking and turns to face them.

"No, thanks," Charles answers. He clears his throat. "Where's Jane?"

Lizzy smirks at him. "I think she's upstairs. You should go up there. I need to get some of my things first. I'll meet you there."

"Do you want to come up, William?" The look on Charles's face clearly says that he'd rather William not.

He shrugs. "I'll see you up there."

Charles grins happily and walks up the stairs.

"You're such a good friend," Lizzy says when Charles has disappeared behind a door at the top of the stairs. She moves closer to him and gives his shoulder a light push.

His only response is an arched eyebrow.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks up at him under her long eyelashes. "Letting Charlie spend some alone time with Jane?"

William can't help thinking that she looks a little bit alluring when she gazes at him like this. "Maybe I just wanted to spend alone time with you." He had meant for his tone to be sarcastic, but the hoarseness of his voice ruins it.

"Right, Darcy." It's her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Well, I just need to grab my drawing pad and maybe a few paintbrushes from the kitchen.

He assumes he should follow her when she starts walking, so he does. "I thought you were just sketching today."

"I am. I need the paintbrushes for a different project."

The kitchen is just as cluttered as the living room. The walls are a pale yellow color and covered with all the photographs and artwork that aren't in the other room. There are various appliances, Tupperware containers, and plants placed haphazardly on the counters. Magnets, notes, and pictures conceal every inch of the refrigerator.

There's a girl sitting at the kitchen table. She's got brown hair that's not quite as dark as Lizzy's and a curious look on her face.

"Hey Mary."

"Hi." The girl's eyes are gray like Jane's, but her eyelashes are just as long as Lizzy's.

"This is Darcy. He goes to my school and lives across the street from Charlie." Lizzy says distractedly as she rummages through drawers. "Darcy, this is my sister, Mary."

"Nice to meet you." William tries to remember which one Mary is, the one that throws tantrums or the one that plays the trumpet horribly.

She arches an eyebrow at his accent. She looks so much like Lizzy when she does that, it's unsettling. "Where are you from?"

"London."

Mary nods. "That's cool."

William doesn't respond. His eyes follow Lizzy's form as she takes a few paintbrushes from a drawer and shoves them into her backpack.

"Isn't Darcy a girl's name?" Mary asks, still studying him.

Lizzy snorts. "It's his last name. His first name's Wil_liam_."

He rolls his eyes and is surprised to find Mary doing the same thing. "You and your stupid nicknames."

"My way of showing affection, Mary-Berry." Lizzy ruffles her sister's long hair.

Mary pushes her away, looking only a little bit miffed. "You're affectionate enough."

Lizzy laughs delightedly.

Suddenly, Mary's eyes widen as if she's made some revelation. "Wait a minute. William Darcy? As in _Fitz_william Darcy from Darcy Advertising Group?"

"Yes," he says at the same time that Lizzy asks, "Your name is Fitzwilliam?"

William glares at her, daring her to make fun of him. She opens her mouth, but her sister's comments cut her off.

"Dude, Lizzy! You better keep that info on the down low."

"_Duh_," Lizzy replies, avoiding his eyes. She picks up a makeup kit, opens it, and takes out a short brush that William is pretty sure is meant for eye shadow.

"Lydia's going to have a fit if you use that to paint, Lizzy," Mary warns, watching with a mischievous smile.

"She took one of my brushes to give herself a French manicure. It's only fair."

Mary shrugs. "I won't tell."

"Thanks." Lizzy gives her sister a one armed hug from behind, and Mary looks half annoyed and half satisfied.

"Ready, Darcy?" She doesn't wait for him to answer before she begins to lead the way to her room. "See you later, Mary-Berry," she calls over her shoulder.

"Where are your other sisters?" he asks as they walk side by side up the stairs.

"My mom took them shopping."

"Shopping?" he repeats distractedly. William can't take his eyes off all of the framed photographs on the walls, photographs of a younger Lizzy with a man that he's almost sure is her father.

Lizzy rolls her eyes. "Fine, mostly window shopping."

He opens his mouth to tell her that wasn't what he meant, but they've reached the top of the stairs and Lizzy knocks on a door loudly. "Jane! Charlie! I'm coming in! Time to act innocent!"

She gives him an amused smile before opening the door. Charles and Jane are sitting on a bed, very close together, both red in the face. Lizzy doesn't look surprised at all, and William has to wonder how often she walks into situations like this.

* * *

William watches Lizzy sketch shapes onto her usual drawing pad. Until now, he's just seen her work on putting details into her drawings since he catches her at the end phase of this process, so he thinks it's interesting to see the beginning.

She sits on a chair and watches Charles and Jane converse quietly while playing chess on Jane's bed. Her eyes rarely leave their figures for more than a few seconds, despite the fact that the pencil in her left hand is moving frequently.

He takes advantage of Lizzy's distracted state to look around the bedroom she shares with Jane. It's quite easy to tell which side belongs to which girl. Jane's side is spotless, and except for a few pencil drawings that are probably Lizzy's work, her walls are bare. There is a framed picture of what William assumes is their family on her nightstand, but other than that, there's no hint of Jane anywhere. Lizzy's side continues the pattern of clutter that's apparent throughout the house. He can see art supplies all over the floor, books stacked on her nightstand, and her old orange backpack laying open on her unmade bed.

One item catches his attention through all the clutter. It's a globe at the foot of Lizzy's bed, sitting on a stack of boxes. It looks expensive, old, and out of place in this room. William moves to inspect it more closely.

It's a little bit faded, and there appears to be pencil drawings of monsters in the Atlantic Ocean and pyramids in Egypt. There are also colored stars on various locations like Paris, Madrid, Sydney, and Rome. He turns the globe and realizes that there are drawings all over it, though there are two very distinct styles. At the foot of the globe he sees engraved words that make his heart stop.

_To my dearest Lizzy, a great explorer. The world is yours to conquer. I'll love you always. -Dad._

William suddenly feels like he's intruding. In this room filled with keepsakes and books and clutter, he doesn't belong. There's too much Lizzy in here, and it makes him feels uncomfortable.

He wonders if this is how she felt when she was in his room. He doubts it though, because his room is kept the way Jane keeps her side of the room. It's impersonal and generic. It's boring.

Being in this room and watching Lizzy in an environment where she's so comfortable terrifies him. It makes his stomach do somersaults and his fingers twitch nervously and his heart beat unevenly. William doesn't want to analyze the reasons why.

* * *

William gets out of Lizzy's car and notices with a sinking feeling in his stomach that his father is in the driveway. He's not sure why his father is even home at this time, since it's barely six in the evening, and he hasn't been home in time for dinner in about a month. William's birthday doesn't count because his father probably saw that as a business obligation.

When his father sees him, he crosses his arms and raises both eyebrows.

"You might have to meet my father," he mutters to Lizzy.

She gives him a strange look, but follows his line of vision and understanding fills her eyes. William notices that there is no fear or apprehension there though, which he thinks is stupid on her part.

"Hello, Father," he says, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders.

His father gestures for Nathan to go ahead into the house and walks up to where he and Lizzy are standing next to her car. "William. Who's your friend?"

"This is Lizzy Bennet," he answers. "She goes to school with me."

Lizzy sticks out her hand and smiles. "Hi. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Darcy."

"Nice to meet you too." His father shakes it. He looks more interested than angry, so that's a good sign. "Are you in William's year?"

"Yes. We have a few classes together."

"Really? What classes are you taking?"

"Creative Writing, Economics, Pre-Cal, English, Physics, Art, and Government. In that order." She looks more confident than she should be, considering she's talking to a very intimidating man.

"Pre-Cal? Not Calculus?"

Lizzy laughs softly. "No, not all of us can be geniuses like William."

It's the first time she's called him by his first name since they've met, and it does interesting things to his stomach.

His father chuckles indulgently, though it sounds rather hollow. "Have you two been doing homework together?"

That's a not so subtle way of asking where they've been. William knew this was coming, though he hasn't really thought about what he should say.

"William was at my house helping me with an art project." Her voice is steady and William is impressed by her lying abilities. They're almost as good as his.

"Art? What on earth does my son know about art?" His father's eyes meet his curiously.

"Not much," Lizzy replies easily. "He's mostly there for moral support. I was doing a sketch of Charlie and my sister, Jane."

"I see," his father's eyes return to Lizzy. "What kind of art do you do?"

Lizzy shrugs. "All kinds. I like painting the most though."

"Have you done it for long?"

William is beginning to feel like this is an interrogation, and he wants to tell his father that it's not what it looks like. It _would_ be his luck that of all the girls he's hung out with in his_ entire life_, his father would catch him with the one that is the least likely to meet his standards.

"A few years," Lizzy answers vaguely.

"I see. Do you live close by?"

"My house is a short car ride away." William can't tell if she's purposely being ambiguous, but he thinks it'd be wise if she stop. Too bad he has no way of telling her this without his father knowing.

"How long have you lived here?"

"Since I was born." She shows no sign of backing down from the questions, though William can see her hands are fidgeting behind her back.

"What do your parents do?"

"My mom is a manager at a department store." This is news to William. He realizes that despite the time he spent in her room, there's still so much he has yet to discover about Lizzy.

"And your father?"

"My father died two years ago." There's no emotion in her voice. No tremor, no hesitation, nothing. She says it in a matter-of-fact tone, and William can't help but think that may impress his father a bit.

"I'm sorry. My wife died a few months ago."

Lizzy nods. "I'm sorry for your loss."

His father's face is carefully blank. "We get by."

They're all good liars here.

* * *

In Creative Writing one morning, William finds himself comparing Caroline to Lizzy.

Caroline is the sort of girl he expects he'll end up with one day. She's pretty in a very traditional sense and never looks less than composed, not a strand of hair is out of place, not a wrinkle to be found. She's the kind of girl that men would glimpse on the street and then have to turn around for a second glance. Caroline is feminine and delicate, and her features all come together harmoniously. William thinks it's pretty safe to say that she's been groomed for a life of money and status, and using the two to make an impression – the life he himself is being groomed for.

Lizzy, on the other hand, looks like she rarely puts effort into her appearance. From what William can tell, she doesn't wear make-up and her hair often looks unbrushed. Her freckles make her look younger than she is, but her eyes are the eyes of someone who has seen too much too young. It makes for a strange contrast on her face. She's by no means as pretty as Caroline at first glance, but there is an intangible fierceness about Lizzy that makes her shine in a way that Caroline can never compete with.

William wonders if Lizzy would be this way if she had the opportunities Caroline has had in her life. If perhaps Lizzy were born into the right kind of family, had the right kind of education all her life, had the right kind of resources at her disposal. Would she be able to compete with Caroline? Would her spirit be tamed so that it could fit into their world?

He doesn't think so. William doesn't think anyone could ever tame Lizzy.


	11. Distance From A To Where You'd Be

**When It Rains by everymonday  
Chapter Eleven: Distance From A To Where You'd Be**

_I find a map and draw a straight line  
Over rivers, farms, and state lines  
The distance from A to where you'd be  
It's only finger-lengths that I see  
I touch the place where I'd find your face  
My finger in creases of distant dark places_  
- Snow Patrol_; Set the Fire to the Third Bar_

_

* * *

_

William begins working for his father a few days after the Lizzy incident. His father had spent the last month or so recruiting the best employees for the company. It's an extremely large company, and William is slightly impressed by the fact that his father managed to fill it with suitable employees in the short time frame, especially considering how hard to please his father is known to be.

His father just wants him to observe. He wants William to understand the company and how it works. He spends a few days with each department, trying to absorb everything, then reports back to his father so that they can discuss what he's learned and what more he should be learning. There is always something more he should be learning.

His father explains to him that as a CEO, he's responsible for the success or failure of the company. They have an advantage since the company name already sparks recognition and confidence. It's important to build that reputation so that it will attract high profile clients as well as bright employees. In order to do that, he and his handpicked senior management team must create a working culture and vision for the company that is unique and allows workers to flourish in the work place.

His father creates the culture of the company through every action and inaction he makes. Every message he sends, every direction he gives, every risk he takes, every word he speaks…these are the building blocks of the American branch of Darcy Advertising Group.

From what he's gathered, there's nothing glamorous about being a CEO. It's filled with endless responsibilities, every decision is a crucial one, and the phone never stops ringing.

William sits silently in his father's office one evening, waiting for his father to finish filling out some important documents.

"So, what did you think of the research department?"

"They seem very busy, especially since we don't have any clients yet." He's glad he only has to spend one day with the research department because it's been the most boring one so far. They analyze numbers and words, looking for meanings that William is sure aren't there.

His father nods. "We actually just won our first client this morning. It's a local restaurant chain here in California. They're putting together some research for the media and creative team."

"That's not a big account." He says without thinking.

Unexpectedly, his father chuckles. "I know. It's not exactly like the clients we're used to in London, but it's just a stepping-stone. We're working on getting a few of the national brands, but it's a slow process, son. You have to learn to be patient."

"Can't you just take some of the English clients we had back in London?"

"It wouldn't be beneficial to either party. There would be too much traveling going on just to keep in touch, and there are cultural differences to consider."

"But we have a lot of English employees."

"That's true, but why would an English company want its advertising done by an American agency and then be shown in the UK?" His father raises his eyebrow.

William sighs, understanding that the question doesn't have an answer. "How did you get so many English employees?" He asks. It's actually been on his mind for a while.

"About a third of our employees are English. They were on our employment database because they applied to work for us at some point in the past. We simply called them and asked if they'd be willing to move to the States to begin work here," his father explains.

He feels his eyes widen. "Just like that? They just picked up and moved?"

"Of course. It's a great opportunity to work for us."

"It seems like it'd be hard," William mutters, looking away.

"It's only as hard as you make it, William."

_They had a choice though_, he wants to say, but doesn't.

William looks around his father's spacious, well-decorated office for what seems like the hundredth time. He thinks that if he had a choice, he'd choose something else. Anything but this.

* * *

They're supposed to write a three-page essay about an object and how it has affected their personality in some way. Many of the students are more upset that it's due the day after Halloween than the fact that it's one page more than they're used to.

William writes about the quilt that resides underneath his bed. His pen moves across the page in a way that he's not used to, the words pouring from his mind and onto the paper with ease and rapidity.

"Oh, you're writing uncommonly fast today, William," Caroline observes quietly.

He feels his face flush. Lizzy turns in her seat and raises her eyebrow at his page full of words. William expects her to make a comment similar to Caroline, but she says nothing though, choosing to turn back around.

"I do hope you'll share your long and charming essay with us," Caroline continues.

"It might just be long enough to meet the requirements, but whether it's charming isn't really for me to decide."

"If you won't share it with the class, will you at least let me read it, William?" she asks, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. "I would love a chance to know what object it is that you think defines you. I'll let you read mine, of course."

William gives her blank sheet of paper a pointed stare. "I don't think it'd be a fair trade, Caroline."

* * *

William is annoyed to find Collin is sitting with Lizzy at lunch today. It's a small consolation that she looks annoyed too.

* * *

Feeling bolder than usual, William takes Collin's seat in Physics. They're starting a new chapter today, so switching lab partners is allowed, and he's not the only one who does it.

Lizzy arches an eyebrow at him, but says nothing. He had expected that she'd at least spare him a smile or even ask him about what his essay for Creative Writing is about, but she doesn't.

Meredith walks in and her face falls when she sees that he's sitting next to Lizzy. She takes a seat somewhere in the back.

Collin, however, does not take defeat so quietly.

He clears his throat and gives him a meaningful look. "William. I think you're in my seat."

"It's not your seat," William replies curtly.

"I'm sorry. I thought we agreed that we'd-"

Lizzy groans. "Collin, go away."

"Lizzy, I told you at lunch that I-"

"And I told_ you_ at lunch not to ever say that stuff to me again," Lizzy cuts him off, glaring.

"I know you're playing hard to get, Lizzy, but this is all-"

William scowls. "Collin, my father's hardly going to hire someone who can't tell the difference between uninterested and playing hard to get."

Collin's eyes widen, and he quickly mutters an apology to William before taking the seat behind them.

William smirks at Lizzy, who only rolls her eyes at him.

* * *

"What did Collin say to you at lunch?" he asks when she sits down next to him in Government.

Lizzy sighs. "He asked me out."

William frowns. "Why?"

She blows the fringe out of her face and scowls at him as she takes her seat. "Why does any guy ask a girl out, Darcy?"

He assumes that's a rhetorical question, so he doesn't answer. Instead, he says, "You told him no, right?"

"Of course I told him no. I'm insulted you'd think I'd ever go for someone like him."

"Just making sure." William shrugs, feeling pleased. "Good thing I was there, then."

"Excuse me?" Lizzy's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"In Physics. I got him to go away," he reminds her.

"Okay, one, mentioning your father to scare Collin into sitting down does not qualify as 'saving' me. Two, I could have gotten him to go away by myself, and without name-dropping, I might add. Three, stop acting like I _owe_ you just for-"

"I never said you _owe_ me, but it wouldn't hurt you to be a little more grateful-"

"Wanting me to be grateful totally qualifies as you-"

"You always do this-"

"Stop acting like you're-"

"-jump to conclusions and purposely misunderstand-"

"-gift to humanity just because you-"

"-accuse me of things that-"

"Where have you been all week?" she suddenly asks loudly, too loudly. Other students are staring at them now, and Lizzy's face flushes.

"What do you mean?" His voice is quieter, and he hopes she'll follow his example.

She lets out an exasperated sound. Judging by the way she's biting her lip nervously and avoiding his eyes, he gathers that perhaps she's wanted to ask him this for a while now. It might even be the reason behind her belligerent behavior.

"You haven't been at the park or with Charlie or anything. Have you been avoiding me because I made a bad impression on your dad? Because honestly, Darcy, I don't think I was even that-"

"No," he cuts off her speech quickly. Her ability to jump to conclusions is exhausting. "My father actually hasn't said anything about you."

Lizzy looks confused. "I thought that…"

William shrugs. "It's probably a good thing. Anyway, I haven't been around because I've been going to work with my father."

"Oh," she says, eyebrows knit together again. "How's that going?"

"Fine."

Lizzy gives him a look that says she clearly doesn't believe him.

"I'll come by the park on Saturday around noon, alright?"

She bites her lip, breaks eye contact, but answers, "Yeah, okay."

* * *

"How's your painting going?" he asks as they walk together to wait for their rides.

"Oh, I'm pretty much done with it."

"Already?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to make Charlie keep coming to my house, so I worked as fast as I could on it. It's not my best, but…" she trails off with a shrug.

Nathan is already waiting for him when they exit the building. It's been this way all week in order to avoid the inevitable traffic on the way to work.

Lizzy sighs. "I guess I'll see you later."

* * *

His father is waiting for them outside because he needs Nathan to run an errand quickly. William waits patiently as the two speak, and he notices a guy that can't be much older than him making his way towards them. He's dressed in a black suit and his dark brown hair is tied in a short ponytail. The guy walks with a swagger that William has seen all his life on many other people.

After Nathan drives off, his father begins to walk into the building, and William falls in step.

"Mr. Darcy!" The guy maneuvers himself so that he's right in front of his father, blocking his path.

His father arches an eyebrow and gives William a questioning look.

He shrugs in response.

"Can I help you?" His father asks politely.

"Please. I just want a moment of your time, sir. I'd like to talk to you about getting a job at your-"

His father tries to move past him as soon as he finds out what the guy is after. "I'm sorry, I'm a very busy-"

"Busy man, I know," he says, nodding and still not getting out of the way. "Please. My name is George Wickham and I want to work for Darcy Advertising Group. I'm a junior in college and-"

His father shakes his head. "I'm afraid a lot of people want to work here, many of them much more experienced and qualified than you."

"Are they willing to work for free?" George asks with a charming grin.

His father is less than impressed. "Working for free doesn't raise your stock. It actually lowers it and says that you don't value yourself enough to charge an acceptable rate."

George's face falls. "I'm an advertising major. I graduated a year early from high school, I'm a hard worker, and I need an internship. I'm only willing to work for the best company in the Bay Area, and that means Darcy Advertising Group."

"That's all very flattering, but we don't have an internship program-"

"Which is why you need me!" George exclaims. "You can hire all the experienced people you want, but their shelf life isn't as long as an interns. You can train and mold interns from the very beginning, work them for no or very little money, and in the end, discard the ones that don't make the cut. You have nothing to lose by hiring me, sir."

His father crosses his arms and looks almost impressed. "What's your name again?"

"George Wickham, sir."

"Alright, Mr. Wickham, what makes you so sure you won't be one of the ones we discard?"

Wickham gives his father a rogue grin. "Because you're already considering my offer."

* * *

They sit together on the swings at the park Saturday afternoon, like they did that day he yelled at her. Only today, it's colder, and it's not raining. He's wearing a long sleeve shirt and Lizzy's wearing an old jumper and those jeans that he knows will fall apart any day now.

"So tell me about work."

"It's not really work," he says slowly, choosing his words carefully, not quite sure how much he wants to tell her. "I don't actually do any work."

"What do you do?"

"Mostly watch how the company is run. I watch each department and see how they do things. I'm supposed to understand how all these departments come together."

"Are you learning a lot?"

"Yeah," he stops there. William can't tell her that the main thing he's learned is that he doesn't want this life. Telling her wouldn't make a difference. She'd probably just gloat anyway. "Let's talk about something else."

At first, he thinks she might continue to press him for more information about work, but then she looks away and nods. "Halloween's tomorrow."

William frowns, unable to believe he hadn't realized this earlier. "Are you going to dress up?"

"Jane and I are passing out candy. I haven't decided if I'm going to dress up. Are you?"

Considering the fact that he'd only just now realized that Halloween is tomorrow, "No."

She smirks, as if she knew that would be his answer all along. "Typical. Is Gee?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"If she goes trick or treating, you should take her by my house. I'll give her extra candy."

William tries to remember if Gee had ever talked about her Halloween plans, but he can't. If she does have plans, he doubts they'll involve walking around asking for candy. "We don't do trick or treating."

Lizzy looks surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. When I was younger, we'd go to parties other children had and our parents would buy us candy if we didn't get enough from the parties."

"That sounds…cool." Her face says differently.

"Gee will probably go to a party at a friend's house or something."

"And you?"

"I'm not sure."

"You can come to my house and help pass out candy if you want." The invitation comes out quietly, hesitantly. Lizzy worries her lower lip between her teeth and avoids eye contact with him.

"Do I have to dress up?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"I don't."

"You don't what? You don't want to come or you don't want to dress up?"

"Dress up."

Lizzy smirks. "Does that mean you want _do_ to come over?"

"Alright."

The smile she gives him makes his stomach flip and his heart rate quicken.

* * *

William wakes up earlier than usual so that he can catch his father before he goes to work.

"Good morning, Father."

His father looks up from his laptop. "William."

He knows he has to approach this carefully. His father doesn't like his time wasted, but William needs time to test the waters. "There was a something I wanted to discuss with you."

William gets no response from his father other than one subtly arched eyebrow. The movement is so small William would have missed it had he not been staring so intently.

"I have plans with some friends this evening," he announces slowly. "Is there a specific time you'd like me back?"

It's a new method. With his mother, William probably would have asked permission to go out with his friends, simply because he knew she liked it when he did, and she always consented anyway. Then they'd compromise on a time he would have to be home.

Things are different with his father. "Are your plans with Lizzy Bennet?"

"Yes." William wonders why his father assumes he's got plans with Lizzy. Why not Caroline or Charles?

His father crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. "It's a school night."

He wishes his father would just give him an answer. It's not like him to skirt around the subject. "Yes. That's why I'm asking if there's a specific time I should be home."

"I appreciate you asking, William, but you're eighteen now. I trust you'll be home at whatever time you think is best."

It's strange. He has more independence with his father, but he feels more caged than he ever did with his mother.

* * *

Gee dresses as a witch. She twirls around the kitchen in her long black dress, one hand holding the skirt up so that her feet don't trip and one hand on her pointed hat so that it stays on her head. Her attempts to cackle are thwarted by the giggles that escape through.

She wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a hug when he tells her she's the scariest witch he's ever seen. William kisses her forehead affectionately and hopes that Gee will always be able to fight wickedness with the goodness that seems to radiate from her.

* * *

Nathan raises his eyebrows at the hand drawn map William hands him. When he had asked Lizzy for directions to her house, he expected her to write them down, but, of course, that would have been too normal for Lizzy. She had drawn him a map.

The ride there is silent, and when William is getting out of the car, Nathan reminds him to call when he's ready to go home.

William knocks on the door three times, and hears a few shouts before the door opens to reveal Lizzy's mother.

She's dressed in a white, sequined dress that seems a bit too short and too tight for someone her age. She also has white wings attached to her back so he's guessing she's an angel or a fairy of some sort, though he thinks she's a bit too old to be dressing up at all.

"Hello! You're our first trick or treater!" She reaches for a bowl of candy.

William feels himself flush. "I'm actually a friend of Lizzy's."

"Oh!" Her smile gets wider. "I'm sorry, dear. Lizzy told me you were coming over, but it completely slipped my mind! You're William, right?"

He nods. "We've met," he reminds her.

"Have we?" The older woman thinks, touching her pointer finger to her chin. "Oh, you go to Lizzy's school! I remember now. The charming boy that lives in Pemberley."

"Yes," he answers, though he can't help but roll his eyes at the name.

"Come in, come in. Lizzy's helping the others with their costumes right now."

The house is in even more disarray than when he last saw it. There are scraps of fabric and papers all over the floor that lead the way into the kitchen.

"Are you sure dressing alike is still cool, Jane?" a young girl with light brown hair a tie-dye shirt and bellbottom jeans asks.

"I'm sure, Lydia," Jane replies patiently. "Hippies and dressing alike are very cool."

The girl spots him in the doorway and her eyes widen. "Who are_ you_?"

Lizzy looks up from her task of putting make up on another girl and gives him a wave. "Guys, this is Dar-William."

"Dar-William?" the girl closest to Lizzy repeats incredulously.

"Just William," he says.

"Good catch, Lizzy," the girl near Jane whispers, though not softly enough because he can hear it.

Lizzy's face flames and she ducks her head.

"I'm Lydia." She walks up to him and sticks out her hand.

He takes it politely. "Nice to meet you."

"That's Kitty," Lydia continues, pointing to the girl getting her make up done by Lizzy. She's dressed in an identical costume.

"Hi!" Kitty says, though she doesn't look at him.

"Hold still," Lizzy tells her, grabbing her chin. "William, you can sit here." She uses her leg to pull out a chair for him, which he sits on mostly because he doesn't know what else to do.

"Do you want anything to drink, William?" Jane asks, looking a little tired but still beautiful.

"No, thank you." He's wondering why he even agreed to come.

"Okay, done," Lizzy announces, letting go of her sister's chin and moving back to admire her work.

Kitty makes a dash for the mirror in the living room, and Lydia is close behind her.

"Lizzy!" Lydia shouts a few seconds later. "Her make up looks better than mine!"

"It's the same," Lizzy yells back, shaking her head as she starts to clean up the mess on the kitchen table.

"Girls! We need to get going if we're going to make it to the party on time!" Mrs. Bennet shouts from somewhere in the house.

"I'm not ready!" one of the girls replies.

Kitty runs back into the kitchen. "Jane. Can you tie my shirt up a little?"

"We agreed you weren't going to show your stomach," Jane says carefully.

"Lydia's doing it!"

"Well, she's not supposed to," Lizzy says, not looking up.

"Well, she is! Really, I don't see why you don't want us to anyway. Just because you don't want to look sexy on Halloween doesn't mean that we can't!"

"You're a bit too young to look sexy," Jane tells her.

Lydia comes into the room, her shirt pulled up and tied so that her stomach is bared. "Okay, I'm ready!"

"You can't leave the house like that!" Lizzy exclaims, horrified.

"Jane! Help me get my shirt like that!" Kitty cries.

"Girls!" Mrs. Bennet comes into the kitchen. "Oh! You look great, Lydia!"

"See!" Lydia gloats at Jane and Lizzy.

"Jane! Help me!"

"Mom, you can't let them out of the house like this."

"Shut up, Lizzy!"

"Someone help me with my shirt!"

"What's wrong with what they're wearing?"

"Mom…"

Lizzy sighs and grabs his arm to pull him out of his chair and out of the kitchen. The heat from her fingers scorches his skin. She doesn't let go until they've bounded the stairs and entered her room.

"Sorry," she mutters as she shuts the door behind her. "I thought they'd be gone by now."

William's more focused on the tingles on his arm from where her fingers had just been than anything else.

"They're going to some party my mom's work is throwing." Lizzy rambles on, biting her lip and looking embarrassed. "Oh, except Mary. She's in her room, but at least she's doing homework. The trumpet playing probably won't start until later. Lucky you."

He doesn't say anything. There's nothing polite he can really say about her family, he realizes.

She runs her fingers through her hair and sits down on her bed. "So did Gee end up going to a party?"

"Yes," he answers. "She dressed like a witch."

Lizzy's lips curve into the first smile he's seen from her since he arrived. "I can't imagine her as a witch."

"She's not very convincing." He looks around her room, noticing that it's a lot less cluttered than he remembered. The books are all on the bookshelf, and besides a stack of canvases and a pile of art supplies in the corner, her side of the room looks almost as clean as Jane's side.

"So, do you have to work everyday after school now?" Lizzy asks, breaking the silence he hadn't realized had taken over the room.

"I think so," he replies. "My father and I never really discussed it."

Lizzy gives him a strange look. "Are you not very close to your father?"

William snorts. "Do we seem close to you?"

She bites her lip. "Why aren't you?"

He leans against the wall. "We just never have been."

"Why not?" she presses, patting the space next to her on the bed invitingly.

"It's just not how it works," he says as he walks to her bed and sits down next to her.

"That's sad." Her face, however, looks pleased when his arm brushes hers.

"He's not around enough for us to be close." It's a price the children of CEOs pay. William doesn't know how to explain to her that this is just how it is, especially since the scent of citrus and flowers is overwhelming his nostrils and distracting his brain.

"But…working with him doesn't make you closer?" Lizzy shifts and when her thigh touches his, she doesn't move it away.

"I don't really work _with_ him." William stares at the lack of space between their bodies, conflicted.

"Well, then what do you do?" She runs her hand through her hair again. Her elbow knocks into his shoulder.

William swallows. Being this close to her puts him on edge. "I told you. Mostly just watch how things are run."

"When do you become CEO?"

"When my father thinks I'm ready."

"Are you excited?"

"There's nothing really exciting about it, Lizzy." Not so subtly, he shifts so that there is more space between them, giving him room to breathe.

She pouts, though he doesn't know if it's from his words or his actions. "What does a CEO do?"

"Everything, from what I've gathered." William wonders if he should add more distance.

"That doesn't sound appealing to you? Being able to control everything?"

"No."

Lizzy looks confused. "I thought this was something that you wanted."

He sighs. "I've actually never wanted anything less."

The words tumble from his lips without any permission from his mind, and he can't help but blame it on her proximity.


	12. Dare You To Move

**When It Rains by everymonday  
Chapter Twelve: Dare You to Move**

_Welcome to the fallout  
Welcome to resistance  
The tension is here  
The tension is here  
Between who you are and who you could be  
Between how it is and how it should be  
I dare you to move  
_- Switchfoot_; Dare You to Move_

_

* * *

_

"Want to see some of my paintings?"

He's grateful that she doesn't ask him more questions about working with his father. His unexpected confession seems to have rendered her speechless on the subject, and though that had not been the intention, he's content with the way things panned out.

"Alright."

Lizzy hops up and pulls a few canvases of various sizes from under the bed. He takes the still-life paintings from her one by one and gives them fleeting glances. He knows nothing about art.

"These are a little old," she warns him.

The paintings aren't bad by any means. Some are of plants and some are of people. All of them share a pattern of dark colors and attention to detail. The only vibrant color in them is the bright yellow-orange of her people's skin.

After he sees more than ten paintings with people who are oddly colored, William has to wonder if she did it on purpose. The other colors seem life like, so he knows she knows how to use color.

"I couldn't stop painting people with yellow skin for a while," she mutters, as if she had read his mind. She's probably just read his face.

He hands her back the stack of canvases. "Why?"

Lizzy shrugs and bites her lip. She carefully puts the canvases under the bed and pulls some more out.

William looks at them dutifully, but his mind is still on the yellow people. He ventures a guess. "Is yellow your favorite color?"

She snorts. "Hardly."

William scowls. He hates when she makes him feel stupid for asking a question. He wouldn't even have to ask follow up questions if she'd just straightforwardly answered the main one in the first place.

"Do you know what primary sclerosing cholangitis is?" she asks.

"No." He wonders if _she _even knows what it is.

"It's a disease," she explains softly. "It causes the bile ducts of the liver to become inflamed and reduces the flow of enzymes that are needed to break down food substances in the gut."

William stares at her, feeling his jaw go slack.

"It results in liver cirrhosis and eventually liver failure," Lizzy continues. "It's how my dad died."

He has an overwhelming urge to tell her to stop. This isn't a safe topic for either of them. William just can't get his mouth to work though. So he breaks eye contact and stares at the yellow-skinned girl in her painting.

"The liver is the biggest solid organ in the body, and it's responsible for over fifty different functions in the body…did you know that, Darcy?"

"No." William doesn't know how they got here. One minute he's staring at yellow people in amateur paintings and the next, Lizzy's telling him about organs of the body and how they failed her father. He feels uncomfortably hot.

"My dad's skin turned _yellow_." There's a tremor in her voice that makes his heart hurt. "He had all these awful things happen to him because his liver failed. It just started with him being tired. He joked and said that my mother's nerves were finally doing a number on him."

Lizzy shakes her head, giving a hollow laugh. "We were worried he was stressed at work and that was why he was tired and losing weight, but then his skin started turning yellow."

"We went to get tests done. He was so sure there was nothing wrong with his liver because he rarely drank. He thought it was just a fluke or something. It wasn't, obviously." She takes a breath. "He got on medication, but that didn't help much, and eventually his liver failed. It was _such _a slow progression though."

William swallows the lump in his throat as he takes in the broad strokes of paint that make up the abstract background behind the sad, yellow girl.

"That's-that's why I asked about how your mom died." Lizzy's voice is barely above a whisper.

He meets her eyes. William gets what she's implying, and he needs to correct her. "I'm not luckier than you, Lizzy. I'm not better off. I didn't see my mother suffer, but…"

She takes the paintings away from him, her fingers brushing his for mere milliseconds, distracting him.

"My mother dying instantly doesn't make losing her any easier. It doesn't make it hurt less."

It's a long time before she finally whispers, "I know. I couldn't help thinking that you were lucky when you told me. I was in a wretched mood that day. I've given it some thought, and I've just realized it just sucks either way. One way you get to say goodbye, but you watch them leave you against their will, one day at a time. The other way-"

"The other way," he finds himself saying hoarsely. "You have a mother, and then you blink and you suddenly don't. They tell you she didn't suffer, but then you're still left wondering if there's anything you could have done. If only you had stopped her from getting in the car. If only you had delayed her from going to her appointment. You have no way of knowing, no way of preparing, no way of getting the answers you need. You don't get to say goodbye. I'm not luckier than you."

Lizzy sniffles and her eyes become misty. "I'm really sorry, Darcy."

He turns away from her and looks at the globe sitting at the foot of her bed instead.

"It was my dad's," Lizzy says when she catches where his eyes are. "I used to sneak into his study and stare at it. I had all these plans for what I'd do with my life."

William imagines a smaller, younger Lizzy sitting in a room full of books, making plans for herself. It's very easy to picture. "What were they?"

"Travel, mostly. I put stickers on places I wanted to go, which is how my dad found out I was sneaking into his study in the first place." She laughs softly to herself. "He asked me about them and I was so afraid of getting in trouble for being in his study that I didn't think to lie about the stickers. He ended up just being really proud of me for having dreams at all. So we started putting stickers on the globe together."

"And the drawings?" William asks.

"Oh," Lizzy shrugs. "I was so sure there were sea monsters, so I drew them on so that I could plan accordingly. My dad felt the need to combat the monsters with things that actually existed like the pyramids in Egypt and the Eiffel Tower in France."

"When did he put the engraving on?"

She gives him an odd look, maybe because she's just realized how much of herself is on display. "I don't know when he had it engraved, but it was his gift to me for my fifteenth birthday. He'd been in the hospital for a while because he needed to be on dialysis after his kidneys failed. The bills were piling up because he lost his job, and my mom's health insurance wasn't that great, so we were stuck with the majority of the bills. I really wasn't expecting anything for my birthday, but then I came home one day from school and it was sitting on my bed with a bow on it."

"He died a few weeks after that. His liver had already failed, so we knew it was coming. He was on a ventilator and pretty much living at the hospital, if you could call it living, I guess. He was mostly being kept alive by the machines. His only hope was getting a transplant, but…" Her breath hitches, but she continues anyway. "I loved my dad so much, Darcy. I'm so afraid he didn't know how much."

William knows he should assure her that her father probably did know. Honestly, if she loved him while he was alive the way she clearly loves him now that he's gone, William doesn't think there's any way her father wouldn't have known. He opens his mouth to say that, but those aren't the words that come out. Instead, "I have that same fear about my mother."

Lizzy's glassy eyes meet his. Her lower lip is trembling and he watches as she takes it between her teeth to stop it.

Being with Lizzy doesn't fill the hole in his chest, he knows, but for some reason, it makes it fractionally easier to deal with. William stares into her gray-blue eyes and resists the urge to analyze the reasons why.

* * *

Lizzy is a great actress. He'd known she was a decent one ever since that day she met his father, but now he can't deny that she's better than decent.

She puts on a happy face for Jane and Charles, who has come over to help them pass out candy. Why they need four people to pass out candy, William has no idea.

Lizzy laughs and jokes and teases Charles and Jane like she wasn't just on the verge of tears upstairs with him moments ago. She throws a piece of candy at him when she notices him staring intently at her, glaring.

He's finds himself thinking about what Lizzy must have been like when her father was alive. Before the tragically harsh facts of life and death stole away her innocence and left her disillusioned, before it left her with a need to carve a happy mask for the sake of appearances.

William wonders whom the show is for. He wonders if she does it to make it easier for those around her. Jane, especially, seems to benefit from Lizzy's show. She never seems sad because Lizzy is always making her smile and laugh. Lizzy's mother and younger sisters seem completely unaffected by her father's death, from what he can tell. Had he not already had all the facts, he never would have guessed that they had lost a vital part of their family two years ago. He wonders if Lizzy does this for herself. Maybe she needs to prove to herself that this won't beat her. Maybe she needs to know that she can survive despite the pain and the hollowness in her chest.

Maybe it's a combination of all of those things, and maybe they're not so different after all.

* * *

After all the trick or treaters are gone, Jane suggests they watch a scary movie.

That's how William finds himself sitting on an old couch, with Lizzy's shoulder pressing into his left side and the armrest pressing into his right.

Her smell of citrus and flowers is overwhelming him and he can't concentrate on the scenes in the movie.

When he can't hold the words back anymore, he whispers, "What is that flower?"

She turns her face to look at him, her chin unbearably close to his shoulder. The room is dark, the only light coming from the small television screen, but he can see all the delicate curves of her face perfectly, albeit a little discolored. Her eyes are dark with something he can't place and her eyebrows are knit together in confusion. "What?"

"That smell. Of citrus and some kind of flower. What flower is it?"

"Lilacs," she answers with a soft smile. "Why?"

He turns his eyes back to the movie. "I wanted to know."

"Does it smell bad?" she asks.

"No." William sighs. "Not at all."

* * *

About half an hour into the movie, William's left arm gets uncomfortable in its position, but he resists the urge to move it behind Lizzy's head. He doesn't want to give the wrong impression though. William has always considered himself blessed with the ability to think ahead and consider the consequences his actions would bring. In this case, the consequences would be astronomical and not worth the momentary comfort.

* * *

When the movie ends, Jane rises to get more refreshments, and Charles is quick to offer his help, leaving William and Lizzy alone on the couch.

"I bet they won't be back for at least half an hour." Lizzy moves away from him so that she's not touching him anymore. It allows him to breath more freely.

"Are you they an official couple?"

"Define official."

William realizes he doesn't know how. He's never been in an actual relationship before. Not really. Girls were alright to fool around with every now and again, but they weren't really worth the trouble of real relationships. Besides, most of the girls he's known were more interested in being connected to him and his family than _him_. This had always been fine with him because he knew they were good for his hormones and his ego, nothing more.

When he doesn't say anything, Lizzy smirks. "_I_ think they're a couple, even if there's no official label."

"Why?"

"Because they obviously like each other. They spend every moment they can together. Jane talks about him all the time, talks about what a great person he is, how he's 'just what a young man ought to be.'" Lizzy's smirk smooths into a smile. "It's adorable in a sort of gag-worthy way."

"But he hasn't asked her out? He hasn't asked her to be exclusive?"

Her smile fades. "I don't think so."

"You'd be alright with that?" William asks incredulously. "You'd consider yourself in a relationship just because you knew the other person liked you and you liked him back?"

"You're making Jane and Charlie's relationship sound-"

"They _have_ no relationship, Lizzy." He rolls his eyes at her naivety.

Lizzy scowls at him. "Just because they haven't talked about-"

"And isn't communication the main thing you need in a relationship?" William raises an eyebrow challengingly.

She pouts. "I know Charlie likes her and-"

"The _world_ knows Charles likes Jane."

"So what's the problem?"

"Liking someone doesn't mean you're in a relationship with them."

"Well, duh." Lizzy rolls her eyes. "But she likes him back."

William chooses to ignore that last statement since he's not really sure if it's even true. "You have a very elementary definition of a relationship."

Lizzy crosses her arms over her chest. "Fine, Darcy, why can't two people who like each other and want the same thing be in a relationship?"

"Because it doesn't work that way," he replies, shaking his head. "In a perfect world, it would, but this is the real world. There are so many things you have to deal with before you can commit yourself to someone. There are logistics and-"

"This is a high school relationship we're talking about." At first, he thinks she's exasperated, but upon closer inspection, he realizes that she's just amused. "I'm sure if it were up to _you_, Jane and Charlie would have to sign a contract or-"

"Now you're being ridiculous," William cuts her off.

Lizzy is back to smiling again. "Am I?"

"Yes," he answers firmly.

"Come on, Darcy. How many girls have you made sign non-disclosure contracts?" She pokes him in the ribs.

He jerks involuntarily and turns his face so that she can't see the smile she's evoked. "What good would a non-disclosure contract do? Of all contracts, why would I choose to make them sign that one?"

"I don't know, maybe so they can't tell people how ridiculous you are?"

Lizzy tries to poke him again while he's talking, but he's ready for her this time, anticipating her move, and he blocks her finger before she can. "Oh, _I'm_ ridiculous? You're the one that-"

"Or _maybe_," her eyes gleam mischievously. "You don't want people to know about your _techniques_. Or, you know, lack thereof."

His jaw drops and all he can do is stare at her in disbelief.

She giggles happily and pokes him again.

"I'll have you know, Lizzy Bennet, that I've had no complaints about my techniques."

"Because they had to sign non-disclosure agreements!" Lizzy extends her left arm to poke him and he grabs it with both hands, which, he realizes too late, had been her plan all along. She takes her right arm and digs all five fingers into his side.

He can't contain the huff of laughter that escapes his throat, and Lizzy squeals delightedly. "Darcy! You're ticklish!"

William tries to push her away, but she's too fast and somehow, she frees her left arm from his grasp. Both of her hands are on either side of him, tickling him. He puts both of his hands on her shoulders and pulls his knees up in an attempt to block her fingers and push her away, but she's stronger than she looks. He manages to keep her at arms length, but her grip on him is firm.

He presses his lips together tightly, but laughter manages to escape anyway. Lizzy's eyes dance with mirth at his reaction, and she throws her head back as she laughs. William takes advantage of her distraction and runs his hands from her shoulders, down her bare arms, to her devilish hands at his side. He tries his best not to notice how warm and soft her skin is. When both of her hands are in his, he squeezes them, pulls them away from his torso, and holds them over her head.

Lizzy continues laughing, but struggles to free herself. She tries to throw her arms backwards, but his grip on her is too tight, and she ends up toppling over, her back on the sofa, and William on top of her.

She squeaks in surprise, her laughter coming to an abrupt halt. Her eyes stare up at him, wide with shock. Her body is soft and warm against his, and he can feel the way her stomach collapses as she takes a deep breath in. William is too close.

All he can hear is her uneven breathing and his heart drumming wildly behind his ribs. He can see the flush that's beginning to take over her face and neck. He can see the way her mouth opens and she worries her lower lip between two rows of perfectly straight teeth. He can see the way her eyelashes frame her eyes, he can see the way her pupils dilate slowly, the way the blues and grays dance together to make the alluring color combination of her irises that he's so used to seeing from a safe distance.

William has a sudden desire to close the small distance between their lips, to take her lower lip between his own teeth, nibble on it, to feel his tongue mingle with hers, to see if he can make her eyes darken and the flush on her cheeks deepen. He knows he can, if he only closed the distance. With the irresistible smell of citrus and lilacs invading his nostrils, he feels himself leaning forward and -

His eyes widen when he realizes the direction of his thoughts and actions. He lets out a harsh exhale. William needs that safe distance that he's used to. He needs it now, before he does something rash, something that he can't take back, something that has more consequences than his mind can even comprehend in its jumbled state. He quickly releases her hands and stands up. His entire body is humming, and his heart feels like it will thump right out of his chest.

"Sorry," he mutters, looking anywhere but at her. William takes a deep breath, but it comes out ragged. He stands there and tries to find his equilibrium as he stares at the stack of books that looks like it might topple over any minute now. He focuses on the books. Books are safe. One green, one black, one with a small rip in the corner of book jacket-

"It's okay."

An awkward silence falls between them, but he's more concerned with how hot the room has become and how the air feels thick with tension. The silence is the least of his worries.

How long they stand there, he has no idea. Lizzy finally breaks the silence by clearing her throat and saying, "You didn't dress up."

He looks at her disbelievingly, unable to comprehend how _that_, of _all_ things, is on her mind. "I told you I didn't want to."

"Yeah, you did." Her hair is an absolute mess, sticking up in all sorts of odd directions, and her eyes are still dark with something he can't think about right now.

"You didn't dress up either," he remarks as casually as he possibly can.

"I couldn't decide what I wanted to be."

"What were your choices?" William thinks that if he continues conversing with her about mundane things, his heartbeat might return to normal. Maybe that's why she brought up the topic in the first place. Maybe she's as uncomfortably dizzy as he is.

"I don't know. Last year I was a cat."

He has to force his mind _not_ to conjure images of Lizzy in an inappropriate cat costume. "I haven't dressed up in years."

"Figures." She smirks at him, looking only slightly less dazed than he feels. He's beginning to wonder if maybe he's getting better at seeing through her acts, or if she's just not as good as he previously gave her credit for.

"What's that mean?"

"Well, you're not exactly Mr. Good Times, are you?"

He pins her with his harshest stare. "You know there's a reason for that."

A line forms in her forehead as she frowns at him. "Your mother dying isn't an excuse to always be unhappy, Darcy."

"I'm not always unhappy," he says stubbornly. That statement is actually more true than false, he realizes. When he's with Lizzy, he's a lot of things - frustrated, annoyed, confused, exasperated, intrigued - but rarely is he unhappy.

"Fine," she rolls her eyes. "Sorry." Lizzy hardly looks sorry. She's more preoccupied with tying her hair back into a ponytail and isn't even looking at him anymore.

"I should get going." He looks for a clock, wondering what the time is, but he can't find it in this room of clutter.

Usually, at this point, William can expect the girl to ask him to stay longer. She'd say something like, "Oh, won't you stay longer?" and he'd reply with, "No, I really can't, it's a school night." Then the girl would bat her eyelashes at him and tell him something coy. Depending on his mood and the attractiveness of the girl, he'd reconsider. Girls usually tried to spend as much time with him as possible.

Not Lizzy.

She nods. "Yeah, okay. It's a school night."

He can't help but think that she had taken one of his excuses. Now he feels like she wants him to leave. This isn't how it usually goes.

"Can I use your phone to ring my driver?"

Lizzy raises an eyebrow. "You don't have a cell phone?"

"I left it at my house. I never use it."

She gives him an odd look, but fishes in the back pocket of her jeans for her mobile phone and hands it to him.

"Does your driver have his own phone?" she asks while he's dialing.

It's a strange question, but he answers anyway. "Yes. Why?"

Lizzy shrugs. "I'm just wondering who will answer if I call the number."

"If you want my phone number, just ask for it." It's so easy to fall into a teasing game with her.

Especially when she rewards him with that carefree laugh of hers. "If I wanted your number for anything, it'd be so I could sell it to all the girls at our school, Darcy."

William thinks she's lying, and he tells her so. Her only response is to look away and blush.

* * *

William leaves Lizzy's house feeling confused and conflicted. He doesn't like where all the signs are pointing, but he doesn't know how much longer he can continue to ignore them.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Quick update! Yay! I hope everyone likes this chapter. I gave you an _almost_ kiss! That's progress, right? Haha. The usual thanks to my betas (Lyndell, Lynnie, and Erika) and to you, dear readers. I'm dedicating this chapter to Phoebe, who left me a short but rather kind review about my writing and trying my own novel. I'm truly flattered you think that it would sell.

And to Jackie, who likes her Wednesday/Thursday updates. By the way, Jackie, the story takes place in Sausalito, CA. There won't be too many details about it, but if you want to leave me your email or AIM address in a review or PM me, I'll shoot you a message and see if there's anything important I should include (I've only been to the city four times in my life, so I don't pretend to be an expert).

Really, you're all amazing. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter.


	13. Too Much For Friends

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Thirteen: Too Much For Friends**

_All this time and everything's changed but I still feel the same  
All good things eventually end and get washed down the drain  
What a disaster it would be if you discovered that I cared  
A little too much for friends but not enough to share  
What if it was you?  
You that I needed all along_  
- Motion City Soundtrack_; It Had to be You_

_

* * *

_

_William looks back on that Halloween and knows it wasn't the night he fell in love with Lizzy Bennet. He would like to think it was the night the spark was lit, though he knows that isn't true either. The spark had been ignited months ago, probably from the moment he saw her dancing in the rain. It started as a flicker and blazed inside his chest until it felt like a bloody inferno._

_He hadn't realized it at the time, but Lizzy Bennet had been burrowing her way into his heart from the very beginning, carving herself a permanent place, despite how much he had tried to resist. Her persistent questions, wild hair, and damn fine eyes were all just distractions as she slowly but surely knocked down every single one of his carefully constructed walls. As the walls fell down, the flames spread higher and farther, and he needed to contain them before his entire body was set on fire. _

_That evening he spent in the world that was so clearly Lizzy's, with her antique globe and paintings of yellow people…that was the night he realized that if he didn't do something about the wildfire, he'd end up being scorched and seared and reduced to ashes. _

_

* * *

_

William lies in his bed that night, wearing an old pair of pajama pants and the shirt that he had worn to Lizzy's. The smell of citrus and lilacs overwhelms him as he stares into the darkness, repeating one question over and over again.

_When had this started?_

When had the smell of citrus and lilacs gone from confusing to intoxicating? When had her eyes gone from light blue to a lovely mixture of blues and grays? When had his heart decided it couldn't keep a steady beat when she was around? When had Lizzy Bennet gone from annoyingly intriguing to utterly alluring?

_When had this started?_

This is unacceptable._ She_ is unacceptable.

She's so far from his type, it's not even funny. They'd never work out. Never, ever. They live in different worlds. She doesn't belong in his, and he wants no part of hers. He's quite comfortable where he is, thank you very much.

Then, a traitorous part of him whispers, _no_.

No, he's _not _comfortable. He _hasn't_ been comfortable for a while now.

With Lizzy, he's…well, he's not comfortable, but he feels different. Good. _Alive_.

William sucks in a breath. He tries to tell himself that's why he puts up with her, because of the good feelings she evokes in him. He tries to tell himself that's why he always finds himself coming back to her, but he knows there's more to it than that.

_When had this started?_

He doesn't know. He doesn't know. _He doesn't know_. All he knows is that, bloody _fucking_ hell, he _likes_ her.

It has to stop. Dating Lizzy Bennet is _not_ an option. There is no way in hell a relationship between the two of them would ever work. Even the mere possibility is ridiculous.

His heart is quick to remind him that the idea hadn't been so ridiculous when his body had been on top of hers, his mind contemplating the idea of touching his lips to hers.

He rubs his eyes, frustrated and tired with this battle within himself. So, _fine_. Their bodies fit nicely together, but their lives certainly don't. It would never work. It would never last. His family would never approve of her. He isn't even sure if he himself approves of her. She's so incredibly different, and they just wouldn't work. It's pointless to even think about it.

William needs to push her away. He needs to get her out of his system. He needs to get rid of these feelings. He needs a safe distance.

* * *

He asks Nathan to delete the phone number he was called from last night.

The older man looks a bit confused at the request, but takes his phone out of his jacket pocket.

"Actually," William blurts out just as Nathan's fingers are on the button.

"Yes?" Nathan prompts, looking expectant.

His mind freezes and his mouth takes over. "Do you mind giving me the number before you delete it?"

"Of course, William," Nathan replies, though he looks even more unsure.

He jots the number down on a sheet of scratch paper while Nathan reads it to him, and then watches as the older man deletes it.

William isn't sure what to do with Lizzy Bennet's phone number or why he even asked Nathan for it in the first place, especially since he'd just decided last night that he wasn't going to be speaking to her anymore.

The numbers taunt him from the page, mocking him. He stares at them as he eats his breakfast, until he finally crumples the sheet into a tight ball. When he runs upstairs to get his belongings for school, he tosses the ball of paper under his bed.

This is not a good start.

* * *

Her eyes are on him as he walks into Creative Writing, but he stares straight ahead until he reaches his seat.

Lizzy turns around and gives him an amused arched eyebrow, which he also ignores. He focuses his eyes on the blackboard behind her head, trying very hard to not breathe in the scent of citrus andlilacs.

"Want to come with me to the park today?" she asks so quietly that he can barely hear her over the chatter of the class.

A hasty, cautious glance at her face tells him the amusement is gone, confusion and hesitation taking its place.

William shakes his head. "No."

"Do you have work?"

"Yes." He forces the next words out, "But that's not why."

Her eyes quickly grow defensive and the wrinkle appears between her brows. "Why, then?"

He shrugs, moving his eyes to his fingers, laced together in front of him on his desk.

"Well?"

William still refuses to look up, and luckily, the bell rings before Lizzy can continue her questions.

* * *

His plan of ignoring Lizzy in order to stop, or at least slow, the fire in his chest goes pretty well until Physics, where they're partners.

"You tried this before, you know," Lizzy tells him after about thirty minutes of silence between then. They've been working on the experiment together, and he's been trying his best to not meet her eyes and she seems to be too preoccupied with something to call him out on it.

William should have known that it was him ignoring her that she'd been preoccupied with.

"What?" he asks before he can stop himself.

"Ignoring me."

"I'm not ignoring you," he lies, annoyed that she can see through him so easily, especially since it had taken him quite a while to analyze his situation and his options.

"Whatever, Darcy. Whenever you decide to grow up, let me know."

He has to bite his tongue and remind his brain that it's not about getting the last word. Not this time.

* * *

Lizzy doesn't try to talk to him in Government. William knows she hasn't given up though. She probably thinks that he'll realize he can't ignore her and go back to being her friend, but she's mistaken.

He's a Darcy, and he always gets what he wants.

What he wants is for his feelings for Lizzy to die out, and the only way to do that is to extinguish the fire she's set inside his heart.

* * *

William buries himself in work. Luckily, there's more than enough of it to go around.

Now that he's done observing all the departments, his father has him working with Human Resources to figure out the best way to go about setting up an internship program. His father seems to think that it'd be good for William to see how this career pans out, from start to finish. The start is a minimum-wage internship that will mostly involve grunt work. The end is where his father is.

Fortunately for William, he won't be the intern. He never will be. He's too good for that position, too valuable, too important. He is in charge of looking at resumes, after Human Resources has screened them, and deciding who gets interviews.

He doesn't get to do it right away, of course. Internship openings have to be announced and posted online, people have to apply, and they won't get to start for a few weeks. For now, he has to read mountains of paperwork about the hiring process written by the senior managers and learn the protocols.

His presence makes the managers nervous, William can tell. He can't blame them. He has yet to prove himself to them. The only thing he has is his last name and the fact that the blood running through his veins comes from the blood running through his father's veins. It ties them together and ties them to this company.

It gives him an odd sense of power though, knowing that he gets to influence who will work for their company, a company that will someday be his. It also gives him this strange feeling he recognizes as _purpose_, and that's even better than the power itself.

* * *

William asks his father for a tutor to help him study for the SATs, and, though his father's eyes widen with surprise, he agrees and expresses his happiness that William is taking initiative.

He is taking initiative, but truth be told, a tutor is more of a distraction for him than a way to get ahead as his father seems to believe.

* * *

He likes facts. Cold, hard facts. Sound, inarguable facts. Infallible facts. William likes facts.

Facts, knowledge, semantics. They all have a place in his practical world of black and white.

William surrounds himself with facts, buries himself so deep into them that he can't think about feelings.

* * *

His father decides to hire George Wickham as his part-time assistant on a trial basis. He already has a senior assistant and a junior one but sees potential in Wickham and has money to burn.

Burn it does, because from what William can tell, Wickham doesn't do much, though it's not for lack of trying. He wants to go into client meetings, he wants to mingle with the big shots, he wants to be a major part of this company. His eyes are eager and his ambition is obvious. His father appreciates that, but he has yet to give Wickham anything other than coffee orders and forms to make copies of.

It takes William a few run-ins with Wickham to notice, but there's resentment in the other guy's eyes when they meet his. He knows what Wickham is thinking.

He thinks William hasn't earned the treatment he gets. He's not convinced that blood ties are enough of a reason to explain why William is where he is. He believes that William needs to do more to prove himself.

William wants to tell Wickham, and every other person thinking this, because he knows he's not the only one, that he's right in some aspects, but wrong in others.

It might seem unfair to the eyes of someone who has no ties to this company other than monetary, but to every other person who has invested more than money - time, blood, sweat, tears (metaphorical or literal) - into anything, it's the fairest thing in the world that the son of the owner be next in line. He's in this position _to_ prove himself.

Has he earned this? Is he entitled to the power he's been given? William thinks so. He's spent the last eighteen years earning this. He's learned every lesson he was supposed to, he's regurgitated every belief that's been shoved down his throat, he's never stepped a toe over the line his father has drawn. He's earned this. It's his right as a Darcy, whether he wants it or not.

* * *

"Done ignoring me yet?" Lizzy asks about a week later in Physics. There are only a few more days of this unit, so he'll be able to change partners soon. He's thinking about going back to Meredith. She talks so much that she might provide an adequate distraction. He's just not sure if he can stand the idea of Collin near Lizzy.

He sighs. "I'm not ignoring you."

She rolls her eyes. "Seriously, Darcy. This is getting really old. I'm tired of this game. Just tell me what I did, and I'll tell you you're being silly, then we can go back to being friends."

"We're not friends."

"So you keep saying." Lizzy smirks. "Want to draw up a contract? I'll sign it and we can be friends. I'll even sign a non-disclosure form, if you want."

"Everything's a joke to you," he mutters, staring at the wires, trying to remember how they're supposed to connect them.

"Not really. I just told you this isn't funny anymore. Seriously, why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad."

"Darcy, I can't fix it if I don't know what it is I even have to fix."

"There's nothing to fix." That's the truth. It's not about fixing anything. It's about getting rid of the problem altogether. The problem is her and the feelings he has for her.

Lizzy huffs. "Fine."

* * *

"What's up with you and Lizzy?" Charles asks cautiously the next day at lunch.

The other guys raise their eyebrows. "Lizzy Bennet?" Luke laughs. "She's the last person I thought you'd hang out with."

"I don't hang out with her," William says, though his eyes flicker to her usual table briefly. She's not sitting there. He wonders if she's in the art room. He wonders if it's because of him.

Charles bites his lip and looks like he wants to say more, but doesn't pursue the subject further.

* * *

William realizes as he's leaving the car that he's forgotten some of his reading materials at the house. He asks Nathan to wait a few minutes so that he can inform his father that he needs to return to the house.

"Father, I need to go back to the house. I'm afraid I left some of the-"

His father shakes his head. "You don't need to leave. Tell Wickham to get them for you. That's what he's here for."

Wickham, who is sitting at his desk next to the secretary, looks up at the sound of his name. He meets William's eyes, but looks away quickly.

William doesn't like the idea of having anyone he doesn't know in his room. "I can get them myself. I can't do anything here without the reading anyway."

His father raises his eyebrows, but he then gives a slow nod. "I forget how you like your privacy." To Wickham, he says, "Forgive William, no servants are allowed in his room."

Wickham's face darkens considerably at being called a servant, but he says nothing. William considers telling the other guy that it's just the way his father is, he speaks without regard for those under him and that no offense is really meant.

"Just take Wickham with you," His father begins walking again, and William steps to his left to clear his father's path without thinking. "I don't think I'll need him this afternoon anyway. At this point I'm just paying him to sit around."

He's gone before William can argue.

Wickham's face is flushed and indignant, but he rises out of his seat anyway.

William sighs and leads the way to the car, where Nathan is waiting.

Wickham inspects the interior of the luxury car in a way that suggests he's never been in one before. His fingers trace over the leather seats and tinted windows with an unguarded look of awe in his eyes.

"Is this car yours?" His voice is quiet and full of poorly disguised envy.

"Pardon me?"

"This car. Is it yours? Like, really yours?"

"It's my father's."

"I've never been inside a BMW before."

William doesn't say anything.

"How come you don't have your own?"

"I don't need one."

"If I had as much money as you, I'd have my own car." His fingers begin playing with the light switches closest to him. Flicking them on and off, then again and again, as if perhaps hoping they'll do something different.

"Could you not do that?"

Wickham's fingers freeze, but he's slow to remove them. "I guess you're used to this kind of stuff." His tone is bitter, but William continues to ignore him. He _is_ used to this - not just the luxury vehicles, but also the resentment that comes with having more than other people. He knows there's nothing he can really say that will take the bitterness away.

"When do you get your own car?" Wickham asks after a few minutes of silence.

"When I ask for one, I suppose."

"Are you joking? You can have one whenever you want and you haven't asked yet?"

"I have no need for one. I don't really know the roads anyway."

"Can't you just get a GPS system? It wouldn't take long to figure the roads out anyway, would it?"

"No, I suppose it wouldn't." William doesn't say that he has yet to learn the roads because he had been hoping he wouldn't need to. He was only supposed to be in America for a year or so, then go back to England to attend Oxford. Now his father has it in his head that William needs to be educated in America, so everything changes.

"I can't decide if I would use my driver if I had one," Wickham remarks, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I love driving, but I think I would love being driven around too."

William can't help but roll his eyes.

"When I get rich, I'll buy a bunch of cars and just have a driver on call."

"You do that," William mutters, looking out the window and hoping they were almost at the house. No such luck.

"It's all silly to you," Wickham says, bitterness back in his voice. "You'll never have to worry about money and you probably think I'm just a stupid, poor kid that-"

"I never said that."

"Well, you're thinking it."

"I don't think you're stupid or poor. Obviously my father thought you were capable enough to hire you to be his assistant. In the future, I'd appreciate it if you didn't pretend to know what I'm thinking." William considers adding, _especially since I have the power to fire you_, but decides against it, since it's mostly a lie. For now, anyway.

Wickham opens his mouth as if to retort, but seems to reconsider and shuts his mouth.

The rest of the car ride is silent, which William is grateful for.

* * *

"Just wait in the car," William says when the car pulls up to the driveway. "I'll only be a minute."

Wickham's eyes narrow, and William just wants to tell the guy to get over himself and adjust the attitude, but he refrains.

He opens the door and rushes up the stairs to his room. Last night, he'd fallen asleep reading, and the packets are on the floor near his bed where he left them. William quickly grabs them and walks out, shutting the door behind him.

Downstairs, he can hear the faint sounds of the piano playing. Gee has her lesson right now. His feet take him the to the sitting room, rather than out the front door.

Her back is to him when he enters the room, and he decides not to interrupt her, choosing, instead, to listen to her fingers move across the keys and make music. William leaves the room before the song ends and before Gee even knows he's there, telling himself that he needs to make more time for her.

When William comes outside, he finds Wickham leaning against the car talking to Lizzy. His stomach does an uncomfortable flip at the sight of her laughing so freely.

"You're funny," Lizzy says. She hasn't noticed him yet.

Wickham gives a shrug. "So what grade are you in, anyway?"

"I'm a senior in high school." A strand of hair falls in her face and William has a strange urge to brush it behind her ear like he's seen her do so many times. He clenches his fist and looks away to stop himself.

"So we're only two years apart." Wickham wags his eyebrows at her playfully.

She giggles and bites her lip.

"Three, actually. Lizzy's seventeen," William interjects.

Both pairs of eyes turn to him, and Lizzy is the first to speak. "Talking to me, yet?"

William rolls his eyes. "We have to get back to work," he tells Wickham.

"See you later, Lizzy," Wickham says to Lizzy, giving her a friendly wave goodbye.

"Nice meeting you, George." Lizzy doesn't look at William at all as she walks away.

* * *

"What did Wickham want with you?" William asks in Creative Writing the next morning, feigning indifference.

He knows she's heard him, because her back straightens, and she begins to turn ever so slightly in her seat, but stops suddenly.

William sighs, knowing this is her payback for the week and a half he's spent ignoring her. "Lizzy."

Seven seconds tick by before Lizzy turns her head. "I'm sorry, are you done ignoring me now?"

"I was never ignoring you." He's growing annoyed. He just needs an answer so he can go back to his plan to get her out of his system. "Seriously, what did Wickham want?"

Her shoulders jerk up in a shrug. "He just saw me walking by on my way back from the park, and we started talking."

"About what?" William wonders how long he had been in the house and tries to calculate how much they could have actually talked in the time he had been gone.

Lizzy turns around completely, and he's glad because he's much better at reading her when he can see her face. She's smirking like she knows why he's asking, like he's that transparent.

"Nothing, really. He just told me he works for you and your dad."

"That's it?" he presses.

Her eyes are bright with triumph, but he doesn't know if it's from his question or from the fact that he's talking to her at all. "No."

William hates when she gets like this. He hates how she knows the answers he wants but purposely doesn't give them to him. She makes him ask more questions, and with every question, he fears he's giving more of himself away. "What else did you talk about?"

She raises an eyebrow. "What do you think we talked about?"

William narrows his eyes and presses his lips together.

Lizzy's smirk remains firmly in place and she turns around in her seat.

* * *

He purposely makes eye contact with Lizzy in Physics as he passes his usual seat next to her for one next to a girl he doesn't know.

* * *

"He's too old for you, you know," he tells her when she sits down in Government.

She doesn't look at him as she pulls out her books and pencils. "Who?"

"Don't play dumb."

"I'm not. You're hot and cold, Darcy. How am I supposed to know what you're thinking from one minute to the next?" Her voice is tight and bordering on scathing. She's probably upset with him for changing partners on her, but it had to be done. He's not sorry.

"Fine. _George Wickham_ is too old for you."

"Too old for me to what?" Lizzy still refuses to look at him. In fact, he's almost sure she purposely drops her pencil for an excuse to avoid eye contact with him even longer. When she bends under her desk to pick it up, he's given a rather liberal expanse of the creamy skin of her back as her blouse rides up.

William drags his eyes away with difficulty. "He's too old for you, _period_."

She gives an indelicate snort, and when he looks at her again, she's pulling at the hem of her blouse. "Whatever, Darcy."

"He's only a part-time assistant for my father. Not even a permanent position, really. It's on a trial basis, and my father just hired him because Wickham kept coming by the office and bugging him."

Lizzy shakes her head, her eyes hard and her lips forming a thin line. "It's sad how that's the worst thing you can say about him. Not everyone cares about social status like you, you know. It doesn't matter to me how much money he makes or what his dad owns."

He wants to ask her what does matter, but he stops himself.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I think I'm back on my Wednesday/Thursday update schedule now. Hopefully. Many thanks to my betas, Lyndell, Lynnie, and Erika. I'm really glad everyone seemed to like that last chapter. I'm sorry that you're all going to have to wait a little bit longer for an actual kiss. You're all wonderful, and I appreciate each and every one of your comments. So please don't hesitate to leave one.


	14. I'm Still Desperate For You

**When It Rains by everymonday  
Chapter Fourteen: I'm Still Desperate For You**

_DesperationThere's danger in frustration  
Complicated words slipping off of your tongue  
And ain't one of them the truth  
I'm still desperate for you_  
Miranda Lambert; _Desperation

* * *

_

"So what's the deal with Lizzy?" Wickham asks one day. He's on the floor of the room that will soon be William's office, putting together some filing cabinets. It doesn't look like he knows what he's doing, and William is pretty sure he only volunteered because he thought it would be for one of the senior managers.

William sighs, trying to focus on his reading. "She goes to my school."

"So she's rich too? You go to a rich school, right?"

Everything with Wickham is about money and status, but unlike everyone else William has been around, for Wickham, it's because he _doesn't_ have it. It's painfully obvious that he'll do anything he has to in order to get it. Some people might call it ambition, but William just finds it annoying.

"It's a private school, yes." William wishes that he could say Lizzy was rich. He wouldn't have to be avoiding her and his feelings if she came from an acceptable family.

"She's cute. What's her story?"

William gives another heavy sigh. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, she's good looking. She's got a nice figure, decent rack, pretty eyes. She could probably benefit from a hairbrush every now and then, but over all, she's definitely not hideous. Why aren't you trying to get some of that?"

He feels his hands clench into a fist at the way Wickham is describing Lizzy but chooses not to dignify that with a response.

"So what's wrong with her? What's her deal? Why-"

These are questions he himself has asked, but to hear Wickham ask them makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. He pulls his eyes away from the words on the page to meet Wickham's. "Why do you care?"

"Like I said, she's cute." Wickham wags his eyebrows suggestively. "I think she could be a lot of fun."

"She's annoying." That's the truth. Lizzy Bennet annoys the hell out of him. He could do without her citrus and lilacs scent, defiant spirit, wild hair, and mesmerizing eyes.

There's a short pause, then Wickham says, "Really? She seemed like a pretty easy-going girl when I talked to her."

William refocuses his eyes back on the words in front of him, choosing not to answer. He should not have encouraged this conversation in the first place.

Wickham gives William a luxurious three minutes where all he hears is metal being banged together before he asks, "Why does she work at that yogurt place?"

"How do you know she works there?"

"She told me the other day. I just can't figure out why, since she's rich."

William shakes his head. "She's not rich."

Wickham frowns, confused. "But you said-"

"No, I didn't. I said she goes to my school."

"How does she pay for school if she's not rich?"

"Scholarship."

"Oh. So she must be smart."

"That's debatable." Especially if she finds Wickham worthy of her time.

Another pause. "So, seriously, what's the story with you two?"

"There isn't one."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"So, you guys aren't together?"

"No."

"Are you friends?"

"No."

"She said that you guys-"

William slams his book shut and stands up. "I don't really want to hear what she said. What I want is for you finish your job and stop wasting my time by asking me stupid questions."

He exits the room without a backwards glance.

* * *

Charles invites him over one Saturday, and he agrees. The weeks away from Lizzy have made him realize that he's lonely, though he'd never admit that.

"You've gotten better," William observes. It's true. They've played five rounds of this video game that William has forgotten the name of, and Charles has actually won two of them.

Charles chuckles. "Yeah, Lizzy's taught me a few tricks."

William's thumb slips off the button accidentally when he hears her name, and Charles takes the opportunity to shoot him, depriving him of his last life.

"What is that? Three-three now, right?" Charles looks a little smug.

He smiles. "Next round, winner takes all?"

"Sure." They're not playing for anything, just bragging rights, really, which mean nothing to William because it's not like he has anyone to brag to these days.

As Charles presses some buttons and sets some new levels, William finds himself wondering what Lizzy does in her spare time now. How much time does she spend with Charles? What does she do with Charles? The same things she does with him?

"Ready?"

William nods, focusing his eyes on the screen again. He doubts Lizzy and Charles do much besides play video games. Charles is practically in love with Lizzy's sister, and Lizzy has never shown much interest in Charles other than friendship. They probably just play video games all the time.

"Shit," Charles mutters when William takes a particularly great shot at him.

"Guess Lizzy still has a few things to teach you," William mutters without thinking.

Charles takes two shots. One misses. "Yeah, no kidding."

"Do you guys hang out a lot?" He concentrates on keeping his voice casual and aloof.

"Um," Charles takes advantage of his distraction and takes three perfect shots. "Yes!"

He curses under his breath, and Charles laughs in reply.

William switches guns and loads his ammo. He tries to shoot Charles, but he runs off too fast.

A full minute passes silently, both of them focusing on the screen and trying to gain the upper hand. William realizes that Charles had not answered his question, unless his "yes" had been "yes, I hang out with Lizzy a lot" and not a "yes, I just shot you while you weren't really paying attention." He considers asking but doesn't want Charles to come to assumptions, especially if he _is_ hanging out with Lizzy a lot. The last thing he needs is for Lizzy Bennet to know he's asking about her these days.

It's just that the thought of her hanging out with Charles makes him wonder. Does Charles know about her father and the yellow people she paints because of him? Does Charles know how much that antique globe means to her? Does Charles know about the sea monster in the Atlantic Ocean that a younger version of Lizzy thought to plan around?

Does Charles know how it feels to be on top of her, their bodies pressed together, with only thin layers of clothes separating them?

_Stop_, his mind commands. He needs to stop being irrational.

Charles finds him and shoots him four times before William even realizes he's being shot at, and by then it's way too late. He loses.

With a shout of excitement, Charles pumps both his fists in the air. "Yes!"

William bitterly wonders exactly how much time it took Lizzy to teach Charles to be good at this game.

* * *

"How was your weekend?" Lizzy asks in Creative Writing one morning.

It annoys him that she hasn't given up yet. It also annoys him that she smells nicer than usual to him, and he's not even sure why since the smell is still the same. Citrus and lilacs, citrus and lilacs, _always_ citrus and lilacs.

"Fine."

"I heard you hung out with Charlie."

His heartbeat accelerates. "Yes."

"What did you guys do?"

"Nothing." It comes out much calmer than he feels. Inside, panic is rising so quickly that he's surprised it's not leaking from his voice and pores. He runs through the conversation with Charles and tries to think of anything incriminating he may have said about her that would have given him away.

"That's all you ever do these days. You should just go back to being my friend, then we can have fun together again."

He wonders what kind of _fun_ she means. The kind where he sits next to her on the soft, dirty ground watching her sketch or the kind where he lies on top of her and contemplates how her lips would feel against his. Maybe she means a new kind of fun - the kind involving more than accidental touching, where her eyes show more than laughter and the sounds coming from her mouth are softer, breathier.

William wants to know all the kinds of sounds she makes.

With a gulp, he shuts his eyes tightly to banish the dangerous thoughts and images from his mind. When he opens them, Lizzy is still staring at him.

"We never have fun," he says, his voice sounding hoarse.

She rolls her eyes. "You're an awful liar. You _love _spending time with me. I bet you actually miss me."

"You're delusional."

Lizzy laughs. "You're a jerk."

"You're crazy."

"You're stupid."

_You're not good enough for me._ The words are on the very, very tip of his tongue, but he doesn't say them. William is almost sure that those words would be able to wipe the smile off her face and the laughter out of her eyes, and he honestly doesn't want that.

He just wants to stop feeling like his heart is on fire.

* * *

William thinks that he wouldn't mind Wickham so much if he weren't interested in Lizzy. Or at least if he weren't so _vocal_ about being interested in Lizzy.

"So, my friends and I were getting some yogurt after my shift here last Friday, and I ran into Lizzy." Wickham says this casually, but William can tell from the look on his face that he's expecting some kind of reaction.

His face remains impassive, determined not to give Wickham the response he's obviously looking for. "You ran into her or you knew that she worked there and decided to try to see if she was working at the time?"

Wickham raises an eyebrow. "Seriously, William, do you _like_ her or something? I mean, cause I can lay off if you-"

"I don't like her," William interrupts tersely. Then, a thought enters his mind, and he can't help but voice it. "And if I did like her, _which I don't_, I wouldn't need you to lay off. You're not exactly _competition_."

"You must have some story with her…"

"I don't. Stop searching for one."

"I'm not, I just-"

"If you're interested in dating _minors _because you can't get girls your_ own_ age in university, then go right ahead, Wickham. Don't let the fact that I do or don't like her get in your way." William takes a minute to revel in Wickham's shocked expression before turning around and walking away.

He can't help but think that some of Lizzy's reckless mannerisms are rubbing off on him, but it's too late to take his words back now.

* * *

Lizzy walks into Creative Writing and meets his eyes. There's a determined look on her face that worries him more than he's willing to admit.

He turns away quickly and looks at redhead on his left. "How was your weekend, Caroline?"

Her rambling to Annabelle comes to a sudden halt and she gives him a surprised glance. Her face is contemplative as she studies his, and when she realizes that he's _actually_ talking to _her_, she smiles widely at him. "It was good, William. How was yours?"

"Fine." He hopes she'll keep talking so that it'll deter Lizzy from trying to make conversation with him. It's a petty tactic, but William is obviously getting desperate in his attempts to ignore her.

"You're working at your father's company now, aren't you?"

There's rustling in front of him and a triumphant look in Caroline's eyes as Lizzy takes her seat. He refuses to look in Lizzy's direction, so he can't tell if she's given a visible reaction. Not that he cares.

William focuses his attention on the white headband on Caroline's head. "Yes."

"How is that going?"

"Fine." He wonders why Lizzy doesn't wear headbands. It would keep the hair out of her face and she wouldn't have to always be pushing it away or behind her ears.

"You should come by the house sometime, you know."

"I was there last weekend."

"I was visiting my sister, Louisa. Let's hang out this weekend." Caroline's tone is strategically softer when she says this, and though she maintains her air of confidence, William can see the hesitance in her eyes.

He forces the words out. "Alright. That'll be fun."

The hesitance quickly morphs into excitement. "Really?"

"Sure."

"Oh, William! That's great! I can't wait to hang out with you!" She says this loudly, so that her voice carries across the entire classroom, and there's no chance that it could be missed, especially not by the girl sitting in front of him.

* * *

As he's leaving work, he spots Wickham talking on the phone and smoking a cigarette a few feet away from the building. William tries to walk by and pretend he's in a hurry and doesn't see him, but then he overhears Wickham.

"Okay, Lizzy. I'll see you on Saturday. Can't wait."

"Lizzy Bennet?" Will asks incredulously, too shocked to even pretend he hadn't heard.

There's a smug look in his eyes as Wickham takes a deep drag from his cigarette. "Yep. I got her to go out with me."

"Why?" William blurts out.

Wickham laughs. "Why what? Why did I ask her out?"

William frowns, trying to compose his thoughts and keep his face indifferent.

"She's cute," Wickham says with a shrug. "I told you before. She seems like she's a fun girl."

"I didn't…Why did she-" William stops, unsure of what he's even trying to say. "I didn't even know you were keeping in touch with her."

"I go see her when she's working on Friday nights," he explains. "She gave me her number a while ago, and I finally decided to just ask her out."

His stomach plummets. "Isn't she a little young for you?"

"Age ain't nothing but a number, William." Wickham grins.

"She's seventeen," he feels the need to point out.

Wickham shrugs again. "Old enough to make decisions, I think."

William wonders if this is Lizzy's way of getting back at him for telling Caroline he'd hang out with her. "So you just asked her out just now?"

"Nah," Wickham shakes his head. "I asked her out a few days ago, last Friday, I think."

"And she said yes?" William presses.

"Well, why wouldn't she?" Wickham jokes. "I'm a pretty great catch."

William rolls his eyes. "Why were you talking to her just now?"

"I called her just to say hi. Girls dig that. It makes them think we care about them a lot, you know?"

"Right." He has to sit down. He has to think. He has to figure out what the hell he's going to do.

"Why do you care anyway?" Wickham asks curiously. "You said you guys weren't friends, right?"

"No, we're not."

"So what do you care?"

"I don't. I just don't want it interfering with your work."

It's a wretched lie. It's false and stupid and so _obviously_ a lie. Judging by the smirk on Wickham's face, he knows it too.

"Well, it's on a Saturday, so I don't think it'll be a problem."

"Right." William feels sick. "Do you mind putting out your cigarette? It's bothering me."

"Sure." Wickham takes one last drag before tossing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his foot.

The nauseous feeling remains long after the clouds of smoke and the smell of tobacco are gone.

* * *

She's not in Creative Writing, and it takes William a full ten minutes to convince himself that she's not skipping school to be with Wickham.

He hates that Lizzy clearly has a way of making him insane.

* * *

"I heard an interesting rumor," William attempts to sound merely casual when she sits down in Government.

His only response is a sidelong glance and an arched eyebrow.

He lets her give him the silent treatment for a full thirty seconds, but then he gets impatient and clears his throat.

Lizzy laughs under her breath and shakes her head. Then, she leans forward in her seat so that she can see Connor who is sitting on his right. "Hey Connor, I think William wants to share the latest gossip with you."

William glares at her, and then Connor, who looks absolutely baffled.

* * *

"You knew I was talking to you," William says as soon as the bell rings. Usually, this is the time he sprints out of the classroom to avoid any chance of accidentally walking with her, but today he needs an answer.

Lizzy is packing her books and pens away in her backpack and doesn't look up at him.

"Oh, so now you're going to ignore me? That's really mature."

"I'm not ignoring you. I just wasn't sure you were talking to me," she has that annoying smile on her face, and he knows that she's amused by this whole thing.

William knows he shouldn't draw this out. He needs to just ask her the question, then rush to get to work. Nathan is outside waiting for him and being late for work wouldn't do.

"So are you talking to me again, Darcy?" Lizzy stares up at him, her face uncharacteristically blank.

"We're talking now, aren't we?"

She shakes her head. "No, you're just standing here calling me immature and acting like I'm the one that's done something wrong when you're the one that's been ignoring me for the last few-"

"I already told you that I wasn't ignoring you."

Once her backpack is zipped, she stands and puts the straps on her shoulders. "You're an awful liar, Darcy."

William feels his face heat up, and looks around the room to make sure no one else is around for this. Luckily everyone is gone, even Mrs. Lane has walked out. "I'm not-"

"I'm guessing you decided that whatever I did to piss you off isn't worth being lonely and-"

"Don't flatter yourself, Lizzy. I have plenty of people who-"

"Oh, right, I forget. People are just _lining _up to be your friend, aren't they?" She pushes some loose curls behind her ear and begins to walk out of the room.

"Maybe I like being alone," he says, following her.

Lizzy looks curious for a second before she remembers to put her mask of indifference back on. "I doubt it."

"Don't act like you know all about me when-"

"I don't act like I know_ all_ about you, but I think-"

He senses a long-winded speech coming on, and he has places to be, so he cuts her off quickly. "Look, I just heard that you were going on a date with-"

"No," she shakes her head.

His heart beats faster in excitement and relief, but then she continues.

"No, Darcy. It doesn't work like that. You don't get to ignore me for weeks and then decide that you suddenly want to know what's going on in my life."

"Wait," he says, realizing he misunderstood her previous no. "So you are going on a date with Wickham?"

Her eyes flash and her nostrils flare dangerously. "What's it to you?"

"Just answer the question."

"No, I'm not answering your damn question."

"Why not? I don't care if you are, I just think-"

"If you don't care, then why are you asking?" She stops walking abruptly, putting her hands on her hips with an exasperated look on her face.

"It's just hard for me to believe that someone like you would-"

"That what?" Her voice breaks and her eyes almost look pained. "That someone like _me _would be able to catch the interest of someone other than Collin Thompson? That someone like me-"

"Don't purposely try to misunderstand me."

"You make it easy, Darcy! Make up your _fucking_ mind! Either you want to talk to me and be my friend or you don't." She storms off and William doesn't bother to go after her this time.

* * *

Charles has an alarmingly wide grin on his face at lunch the next day.

"Jane agreed to be my girlfriend," he announces excitedly before William can even ask.

"That's great," William replies, trying to sound sincere.

"About time, Bingley," Luke says, giving Charles a friendly punch in the shoulder.

Charles proceeds to spend the entire lunch period gushing about Jane Bennet and all of her many wonderful qualities. The guys around the table roll their eyes and tease Charles, but that doesn't deter him one bit. Any time someone attempts to change the subject, he changes it back to Jane somehow.

When the lunch bell rings, Charles looks disappointed while everyone else looks relieved. It's clear that Charles could go on until Christmas about Jane Bennet.

"William, can I talk to you about something?" Charles asks hesitantly as they all rise from the table.

"Only if you promise not to mention Jane Bennet's name." William tries to sound friendly, but he's not really joking. He's likely to punch Charles if he's forced to listen to him try to string together more words about the daintiness of Jane's fingernails or the way her blonde hair curls ever so slightly when it's humid outside.

Charles laughs as he falls in step with him. "No, no. It's not about Jane."

"Thank goodness. I have to tell you, Charles. You're quite obsessed with her and-"

"I know, I know. I'm just really happy that we're finally official now."

"Right, well, what did you want to talk about?"

"Well, it's just…I know it's none of my…See, I don't know how…" Charles trails off, looking very uncomfortable.

William stops at his locker to grab some of his books. "Spit it out, Charles."

"Hi, William!" Caroline appears at his side as if from nowhere.

"Hello, Caroline. How are you?" He asks politely, giving Charles a shrug.

"Fine."

"What class do you have next?"

"Physics."

"Yuck," Caroline scrunches her nose. "How awful. I'm so glad I'm not taking a science class anymore."

William rolls his eyes and decides that doesn't need a response. To Charles, he asks, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Charles looks helplessly at his sister, and then sighs. "Caroline, do you mind if I talk to William alone for a minute?"

Caroline narrows her eyes at her brother. "Why?"

"Because I have something I need to talk to him about."

"I'm sure he's heard enough about Jane."

"Caroline," William cuts in. "I'd really appreciate it if you could give me some time to talk to you brother."

She looks taken aback, but then she shrugs her shoulders and feigns indifference. "Okay, William. I guess I'll see you later."

William watches as she walks over to where her friends were waiting for her a few feet away, in obvious earshot.

Charles shakes his head at his sister. "She's so annoying sometimes," he mutters.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Lizzy."

He stiffens at the sound of her name. "What about her?"

"Look, I don't know what happened, and it's not any of my business, but I think she misses you and-"

His heart rate picks up. "Did she put you up to this?"

"No!" Charles looks so scandalized by the idea that William can't help but believe him. "She'd probably kill me if she knew I'm telling you this."

"So she said she misses me?"

"Well, no, but you can kind of just tell, you know?" Charles shrugs. "I don't know. I think you guys should just get over whatever happened and just go back to being friends. For a while I thought you guys would even get together…"

This is the most spine he's ever seen Charles show, and it surprises him to say the least. However, it's really unnecessary and unwanted. The last thing he needs to hear is how there's a possibility of he and Lizzy dating, especially since that's the one thing he's been trying to _avoid_. Besides, apparently, she's dating _Wickham_ now. "Charles, Lizzy and I were never friends."

"But you-"

"Listen, you've got the only pretty girl in that family, believe me. Lizzy's tolerable in small doses and everything, but she's definitely nothing special, and certainly not pretty enough to tempt me. I've got no patience for girls like her, Charles."

Suddenly, there's a loud slam of a locker close by, and the force of it makes his own locker tremble slightly. When William looks to see the cause of the sound, he's met with Lizzy Bennet's eyes which are a mixture of anger and hurt. She raises her chin defiantly, then pivots on her heel and walks away.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hi, hi, hi! So sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter to you all. Last week was crazy for me. I was averaging about four hours of sleep a night, so I didn't think it'd be wise to try to edit this chapter while delirious from lack of sleep. April and May are super busy months for me, so the posting schedule will be a bit weird, but I will try to update regularly. I appreciate all of your reviews and PMs. Thank you so much for being patient with me. Please remember to let me know what you think of this chapter.


	15. Drumming Noise

**When It Rains by everymondayChapter Fifteen: Drumming Noise**

_As I move my feet towards your body  
I can hear this beat it, it fills my head up  
And gets louder and louder  
It fills my head up and gets louder and louder  
There's a drumming noise inside my head  
That starts when you're aroundI swear that you could hear it  
It makes such an almighty sound_  
- Florence and the Machine; _Drumming Song_

_

* * *

_

Lizzy never looks at him anymore. A whole week has gone by and she hasn't made eye contact with him once. It's pretty impressive actually, given how much he finds himself staring at her.

He notices the creamy skin at the base of her neck when she wears her hair in a ponytail, the graceful movement of her hands when she speaks in class, the delicate curve of her lips when she smiles at someone other than him. She never smiles at him anymore.

William has to remind himself that this is what he wanted. This is how he'll get over his feelings for her.

* * *

It's the day before Thanksgiving break, and he is walking right behind her as they both make their way to Creative Writing. She's close enough for him to smell the air of citrus and lilacs that surround her but just out of his reach.

She doesn't go directly to her seat, choosing, instead, to walk up to Mr. Lucas and present him with something William can't see because he's too busy pretending he's not watching. It would give him away if he were to turn his head in her direction as he's walking away.

She speaks in hushed tones, and he wonders if anyone else is listening like him. "Here, Mr. Lucas. My mom wanted me to give this to you."

"Thank you, Lizzy. Tell your mom I said thank you as well."

"It's no problem. Thanks for taking it off our hands." Her voice sounds pained, and William quickly takes his seat so that he can see her face without being too obvious.

"I'll take good care of it," Mr. Lucas assures her softly. He's staring at a rectangular object in his hands.

Lizzy takes her lower lip between her teeth and nods. "I'm glad it's going to you and not a stranger."

William accidentally makes eye contact with her as she's walking to her seat. She simply looks away quickly, but not before he can read the sadness that's swimming in her eyes.

* * *

He and Gee get a week off from school because of an American holiday. They don't celebrate it, but William welcomes the free time he can spend with his sister.

Today, they're sitting in the dining room, William finishing up his college applications on his laptop and Gee drawing a picture.

William notices a bracelet made of green and blue beads strung together with elastic on Gee's small wrist. It's too big for her and continues to slip off, so she constantly has to use her other hand to push it back up her arm.

"Where'd you get that bracelet, Gee?"

His sister looks up from her drawing and at the bracelet on her wrist. "Lizzy gave it to me."

He frowns. "When?"

"When I saw her at the park," she answers simply, going back to her drawing.

William blinks, surprised. "When did you go to the park?"

"Mrs. Reynolds took me when you were at work last week. Remember that day it was warm and I wanted to go?"

Guilt hits him square in the chest. "I'm sorry I haven't been spending much time with you lately, Gee."

"It's okay. I know you're busy, William." Gee shrugs. "Besides, we're playing right now."

He's not sure if he would call this playing together, but he decides not to correct her. "Why did Lizzy give you her bracelet?"

"I said it was pretty, and she told me she made it. Then she gave it to me 'cause she's got a lot of them."

"Was she happy to see you?"

"Lizzy's _always_ happy to see me," she replies simply. "She tells me so."

He smiles. Gee is always two extremes, either incredibly shy and quiet or outgoing and confident. Lizzy seems to bring out the latter, for which he's grateful. "What did you and Lizzy talk about?"

"She asked me about school and piano and dance, and she let me see some of her drawings. Lizzy wants to go to art school, not a regular university. She just wants to go to one where she gets to draw all day, did you know that?"

"No, I didn't." His smile fades, and he ignores the nagging feeling in his chest that's saying he misses her. "What was she drawing?"

Gee's face scrunches up as she tries to remember. "She has a drawing of her sister, Jane. It's pretty. It looks like a real picture, like the kind you take with a camera. She said she used colored pencils, but the special kind."

"What else did you talk about?"

"I don't know. It was a long time ago, William."

He has to ask. "Did you talk about me?"

Gee looks up, curious. "I don't think so. Why? Do you want me to talk about you to Lizzy?"

His face colors. "No. That's not what I meant."

"I told her you were working, and that's why I was at the park with Mrs. Reynolds. She said hi to Mrs. Reynolds."

William remains silent, trying to decide how he feels about Lizzy still talking to Gee and Mrs. Reynolds when she won't talk to him…

Gee holds up her drawing and announces, "I'm done."

It's a boy with a square body and a mass of brown hair on top of his head. It's him. William smiles. "I like it."

She gives him a proud grin, her brown eyes bright. "Do you want it?"

He nods. "Of course."

"Here," she hands him the sheet of paper. "Are you all done with your work?"

"Not yet."

Gee gives a loud sigh. "You always have so much work."

"I know," William mutters, more to himself than her.

"How come you didn't have to go to work this week?"

"I did," he reminds her. "I just went earlier in the day."

"I was asleep when you went?"

"No, you were at your friend's house, I think."

Gee's face scrunches up as she thinks, then she gives a shrug.

They're silent for a few moments, William concentrating on the wording of an essay while Gee puts away her crayons.

"William?"

"Yes, Gee?"

"Do you miss Mum?"

William's hands freeze, and his throat closes. He has to swallow several times before he can reply, "All the time, Gee."

"Me, too," Gee says truthfully, looking down at her lap. "I thought that Father would be nicer now that Mum's gone." She sighs sadly. "But he's the same."

"Yeah."

"How you can be the same after someone dies?" Gee stares up at him imploringly, perhaps expecting him to have an explanation.

Pain flares in his chest at the look on his sister's face. He wishes he had an answer. "I don't know."

Gee blinks, then looks down at her lap again and mumbles, "I'm glad I still have you, William."

"You'll always have me," he tells her as he reaches across the table to squeeze her hand.

* * *

Thanksgiving is supposed to be about being with family and loved ones. Even the staff gets the day off. He stays in the house with Gee and they eat the turkey dinner Mrs. Reynolds left for them before she left.

Despite the fact that they don't celebrate this holiday, William thinks that his father spending the day away from the house is an all-time low.

* * *

When Charles had invited him over to play video games, he hadn't realized Jane would be there too. Had he known, he probably would have stayed at the house rather than run across the street in the rain with just a flimsy umbrella and a light jacket. Maybe that's why Charles hadn't told him in the first place.

"Hi, William." Jane gives him a polite smile when he enters the room with Charles, but her eyes hold some reserve that suggests she knows what he'd said about her sister.

"Jane," he nods his head in acknowledgement.

"How are you?" Jane asks conversationally. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I'm well. Thank you."

Charles hands him a controller. "How's your break been, William?"

"Fine." Boring, he wants to add.

"Does your family celebrate Thanksgiving?" Jane asks curiously.

"No," he replies, watching Charles press buttons on the remote to set up the game.

"Oh, so it's just another day for you?" Jane doesn't have a controller, and William wonders why she's here if she's not going to play video games with them.

"Yes." He takes a deep breath. "Did your family do anything?"

"We had Thanksgiving dinner at my aunt and uncle's house. It was nice. We have a small family. Just my mom and her sister, really."

"I see." William wonders why it's so difficult to talk to Jane and not to Lizzy. He turns his eyes to study Jane and tries to find some link to Lizzy. Besides her eyes, Jane's features are nicer than Lizzy's. He can't pinpoint the exact reason why, maybe it's her bone structure or the way she actually puts effort into her appearance, but he can understand how Jane got the reputation as the beautiful sister. He can see Lizzy's nose and chin on Jane's face, but Jane doesn't have the same eyes. Her eyes are completely gray, unlike the perfect mixture of blues and grays in Lizzy's.

"So I think Charlie said you took your SATs last weekend?"

William nods. "They were pretty easy."

Jane smiles. "Lizzy said the same thing. I thought they were a little hard. Lizzy's always been the smarter one though."

He doesn't know Jane very well, but he's pretty sure she's right when she says Lizzy is the smarter one. "Did you take them last weekend too?"

"No. We took them the round before last. About a month ago."

William tries to remember if he and Lizzy had been on speaking terms then. If they were, Lizzy never mentioned her SATs.

"What colleges are you looking at?" Jane continues.

"Yale, Harvard, Princeton, Stanford, a few others."

Jane's eyes widen. "Wow. Those are some prestigious places."

He shrugs. "My original plan was to go to Oxford."

"Oh, really? Why did you change your mind?"

Another shrug, but no answer this time.

Jane looks away politely and gives a slight nod when she realizes that he's not going to reply. Had it been Lizzy, she would have pressed him for more answers.

"You ready, William?" Charles asks.

He looks back at the television screen. "I don't even know what we're playing."

"Perfect. I might have a chance at winning. I can't embarrass myself in front of Jane, you know."

Jane returns his smile, but doesn't laugh. A light blush spreads across her face, and she looks away quickly.

Charles has the upper hand for about thirty seconds as William figures out what the game is and what buttons he needs to press in order to shoot his virtual gun.

He wins the first round, but he's pretty sure it's because Charles is too distracted by Jane's presence to pay much attention to the game.

"Damn," Charles mutters. He looks over his shoulder as the game begins to restart. "I blame you."

William follows Charles's line of sight to see Jane smiling at him, a blush staining her cheeks.

"I'm so focused on not messing up in front of you and-"

"You mean you weren't purposely playing poorly? Here I was thinking you were trying for pity points," Jane says.

It's the first time William's heard Jane tell a joke - at least he hopes it's a joke.

Charles gives a good-natured groan. "William, tell Jane I'm not actually this bad. Remember when I beat you?"

"Was that the game that Lizzy helped you with?" Jane teases.

Charles narrows his eyes at her playfully. "It doesn't matter _how_ I got good at the game, just that I did."

Jane giggles. "If you say so."

"I can beat Lizzy now too," Charles boasts.

William wishes he would just press the start button on his controller. He did not come over so he could watch their poor attempts at flirting.

"She should be here any minute now, so I guess we'll see."

"Wait," William blurts out.

Two pairs of eyes turn to him. He swallows.

"What?" Charles asks.

William briefly wonders if he could get away with pretending he hadn't said anything. Judging by the curious looks on their faces, he's pretty sure they heard him. Thinking quickly, he says, "I have to use the loo, do you mind waiting before you start the game?"

Charles blinks. "Of course. It's no fun beating you if you're not here."

"The jig is up, Charles," William replies as he stands. "Your girlfriend knows you can't play."

Jane's face goes crimson, but Charles laughs. "We've got all afternoon!"

Good God, they're going to be here all afternoon? How long would Lizzy be staying? He'd have to find a legitimate excuse for leaving. There's no way he can be in the same room with Lizzy for an extended period of time without the distractions that teachers and assignments provide at school.

* * *

"Hey, Charlie. Sorry I'm super wet and gross," he hears Lizzy tell Charles.

"Lizzy, what happened?" That's Jane's concerned voice.

"It's nothing! Here, let me take my shoes off first. I don't want to track mud in your house, Charlie."

William's guess is that she'd walked here. He won't know if he's right until they come back into the game room. When the doorbell rang, William had thought it best to just stay here while Jane and Charles rushed to the door. He doesn't want to prolong the amount of time he'll spend staring at Lizzy.

"Charles?" Caroline's voice calls from somewhere close. "Who's at the door?"

There's shuffling, then Caroline screeches, "Good_ Lord_, Lizzy! Did you _swim_ here?"

"Jane, I swear I used the umbrella, but it broke. You know how-"

"Did you _walk_? I thought Mom was going to drive you here."

"She was, but then she got called to work. I called you a few times, but you didn't answer, so I got worried and figured I'd just walk here."

"Worried?" Caroline interjects. "What are you trying to say, Lizzy? You think we'd-"

"Caroline," Charles cuts her off.

"_What_?"

There's a clearing of someone's throat, then Jane suggests, "William's in the game room, Caroline. I think he's going to get bored while we help Lizzy dry off-"

"Jane, I really don't-"

"Oh! _William_ is here?"

_Fuck_. William wonders if this is Jane's way of getting back at him for saying that stuff about Lizzy. He wonders how much Lizzy told her, if she embellished his words a bit, because sticking Caroline on him seems like one hell of a punishment just for a few tactless words that Lizzy wasn't even supposed to hear anyway.

He quickly starts the game and pretends to be immersed in the virtual world on the television screen.

"William!"

Keeping his eyes on the screen, he mutters, "Hello, Caroline!"

"How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?"

"Fine, thanks."

"I was just taking a nap upstairs. Had I known you were down here, playing video games by yourself, I would have come down sooner!"

"Don't do anything on my account."

"Don't be silly. I told you, I love video games." Caroline sits down next to him and takes hold of his arm.

"You should see Lizzy Bennet," Caroline whispers close to his ear. "She looks an absolute fright. She's soaking wet and I'm pretty sure her jeans are six inches deep in mud. How inappropriate, right? I'd never show up to someone's house looking like that."

William moves away from Caroline and gets a good look at her. He's not sure Caroline is a good judge of what is appropriate, seeing as how she's wearing a very tight tank top and what looks like the shortest shorts in the history of fashion.

"What's wrong?" Caroline asks.

"Nothing," he sighs. William hates that he feels the need to treat her with at least a little bit of respect since this is her home, after all. Not to mention the fact that she is Charles's sister. Isn't there some rule about that?

His eyes move to the screen. "Want to play?"

Caroline's eyes widen with delight. "I'd love to!"

"It's a shooting game, I don't know if you're into that…" he trails off awkwardly.

There's a second of hesitation, but then she says, "I love this game!"

"Are you sure?" William would bet his inheritance that she doesn't even know what this game is called.

Caroline's eyes flicker to the television, and she seems to change her mind when she catches sight of all the blood depicted. "Oh, William, you know me too well. This _really_ isn't my thing, I just wanted to impress you." She bats her eyelashes for good measure.

When he doesn't reply, Caroline continues. "Let's play _Guitar Hero_." This time, she doesn't wait for him to say anything; she simply gets up - giving him a rather liberal view of her bum while doing so - and begins to search for something.

"I've actually never played that before."

"Oh, you'll love it, William. It's so much fun."

She finds the guitars for the game, but needs his help getting it started. William picks a default character to play, while Caroline seems to have decided to make her character look exactly like her.

It takes about ten minutes, and William knows this because he splits his attention between the clock and the doorway.

"Okay, I'm ready! Isn't she cute? She looks like me, don't you think?"

"Absolutely," William replies sarcastically. He presses the start button and hopes, hopes, _hopes_ she won't talk while they play.

They're about ten notes in when Charles, Jane, and Lizzy walk in.

Lizzy scowls when she sees him, and then glares at Jane and Charles, who exchange identical sheepish smiles.

"Guitar Hero? Really, William?" Charles laughs.

William doesn't blame him. His score is positively dismal. It's not as bad as Caroline's, but that's not exactly saying much.

"What level are you guys playing on?" Lizzy asks. It's been a while since she's directed a question at him, and her voice sounds odd to his ears. His heart, however, gives a familiar lurch.

He waits and pretends to be concentrating on the game, expecting Caroline to answer, but she seems just as determined to ignore Lizzy as he is.

The silence stretches on, and he can practically feel Lizzy's eyes burning into his back.

"I think they're on Medium," Jane finally answers. "Easy would have less notes to hit, right?"

"I think so," Charles agrees.

Lizzy appears at his side, though she's looking at his hands rather than him. "It's easier if you keep all four of your fingers on the keys, and then tap them when the color comes up, rather than just using your pointer finger for all the colors."

He doesn't say anything.

"Lizzy, stop bugging William," Caroline says, her eyes not leaving the screen.

She sighs. "Just try it."

William pretends he can't hear her.

Her soft fingers touch one of his and he jerks away quickly, but it's not fast enough. The contact sends electricity up his arm and makes his heart beat rapidly.

Lizzy takes a step back, looking a mixture of annoyed and hurt. "Sorry," she mutters quietly. "I forgot that I'm only tolerable in small doses."

Nobody says anything for quite some time, even after the game ends. The air is thick with tension, and William wishes he had just stayed home. His arm is still tingling.

"Caroline?" an older girl with blonde hair like Charles pops her head in the doorway. "What are you doing?"

William doesn't know who she is, but he can't remember ever being so relieved to see someone in his life. By Charles's grateful sigh, William gathers that he feels the same way.

"Louisa!" Caroline exclaims happily. "Come meet my friend, William."

He winces. He realizes that Caroline considers him her friend but she knows nothing about him. Whereas Lizzy knows more than most people, but he is still unwilling to call her his friend. It gives him an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

After Louisa surveys the room with a rather bored expression, she decides to come in.

"Nice to see you again," Jane smiles politely.

"Hey, Louisa," Charles says. "These are our friends Lizzy and William. Guys, this is my older sister Louisa. She's home from college for Thanksgiving break."

She's about the same height as Caroline, and looks very similar to her, but not as thin. Her eyes are nowhere near as sharp, but that might just be because she looks very disinterested in the entire scene before her.

"Hello." Louisa gives a small wave to them, and then looks at Caroline. "Did you still want to go shopping?"

"Now?" Caroline looks at William, a conflicted expression on her face.

Louisa looks at her watch. "Yeah, I have to meet Jake for dinner, so if you want to go shopping, we have to go now."

"I just feel awful leaving William all by himself," Caroline pouts.

"Take him with you," Lizzy tells her suddenly.

Without thinking, he turns his eyes on her. She's not looking at him, but at Caroline instead, an innocent smile on her lips. Caroline looks shocked at the suggestion, or perhaps she's just shocked that _Lizzy_ made the suggestion.

"William wouldn't want to come shopping…" Caroline says forlornly. She tugs the sleeve of his shirt. "Would you?"

"No."

"Well, do _you_ want to go, Caroline?" Louisa asks impatiently.

"I think I'll stay…"

"Please don't stay on my account," William tells her quickly. "You should spend time with your sister while she's here."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Louisa interjects. "We've spent loads of time together this week."

Caroline nods. She seems to have made up her mind. "I'll definitely stay and hang out with you."

"Or you guys could go out," Lizzy suggests. "You know, you two seem to both be really bad at video games. Maybe you should spend some quality time together...maybe see a movie or something?"

"Lizzy," Jane warns.

"I mean, I don't want you to feel like I'm kicking you out of your own house or anything, Caroline, but-"

"This actually might be the best idea you've ever had," Caroline cuts her off, smiling. "What do you think, William?"

What he thinks is that Lizzy must really hate him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Helloooo. Sorry for the delay. Life is crazy busy. In fact, I have some bad news. The next month, I have to go through a series of ad critiques and graduation, so I won't be able to write or update. Please don't be mad at me! (It's my birthday today, so you can't be mad at me!)

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and I hope you'll still be here when I come back (as a university graduate…eeek!). Also double thanks for my betas Lyndell, Lynnie, Erika. I forgot to thank them last time.

Anyway, please leave me your thoughts. It is my birthday, after all. ;)


	16. Everyday I Wanna Be With You

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Sixteen: Everyday I Wanna Be With You**

_I don't know what to say, every word just makes you turn away  
__I don't know what to do, everyday I wanna be with you__  
Well I've lost the battle, and I'm losing the war  
And I keep on asking myself what for  
If you believe in fate, in destiny  
Well then open your eyes and believe in me  
_Rooney_; Believe In Me_

_

* * *

_

Lizzy is absent from school for three days following Thanksgiving break. William looks at the empty desk in front of him in Creative Writing and realizes how much of his time he spends watching her.

Although it's been a month since they've had a real conversation, William feels strangely bereft when he stares across the desk in front of him and doesn't see her untamed, chestnut hair.

* * *

Wickham is flirting with the secretary, Suzanne, when William comes into work a week later. His heart speeds up at the sight, and his mind automatically wonders if Lizzy's finally done with this guy.

"That movie is supposed to be good, isn't it?" Wickham asks, leaning over the counter casually, giving Suzanne a wide grin.

She bites her lip. "I heard it's super scary."

"Not a fan of scary movies?"

"I'm a bit of a wimp," she admits. "I can't watch them by myself."

William rolls his eyes. Oldest trick in the book.

"We should go see it together then," Wickham suggests predictably. "I'll protect you during all the scary parts."

Suzanne giggles. "Promise?"

"Promise." Wickham holds up two fingers. "Scout's honor."

* * *

"Things with Lizzy didn't work out then?" His voice is as conversational as he can keep it, and his eyes are glued determinedly on the resume in his hand.

William can feel Wickham's eyes shift from his own paperwork to him. "Sorry?"

"You and Suzanne," William considers mentioning Carrie, one of the delivery girls he's seen Wickham flirting with as well, but decides against it. He doesn't want to seem like he's been watching.

"Oh, yeah. She's cute, isn't she? A little old to be working as just a secretary, but I can deal with that."

William narrows his eyes. "Isn't she just a few years older than you?"

"Yeah, she's got a college degree too, but a lot of good that's doing for her, right?" Wickham gives a huff of laughter. "Man, if I had my degree, I'd never be a secretary. Why even pay for an education if you're just going to settle for a crap job like that?"

"Because _your_ job is just so glamorous," William replies dryly.

There's silence. Neither of them even moves. Finally, Wickham says in a tight voice, "This job is a means to an end for me."

"Suzanne's job could be a means to an end for her too."

"Whatever. It's not like I'll marry her. I just figure she'd be a good time."

William recalls Wickham saying the same thing about Lizzy. The hand that's not holding the resume clenches under the table. "So Lizzy wasn't any fun then?"

"No, she was. She_ is_, but, I mean, there's no harm having a good time with more than one girl. It's not like she and I are actually _together_."

He is curious to know if Lizzy agrees with this logic.

* * *

Lizzy looks awful when she walks into Creative Writing, but William's heart gives a familiar flutter anyway. Her eyes are bloodshot and her hair is falling out of her ponytail. She grabs a few tissues from Mr. Lucas's desk as she talks to him in a hoarse, congested tone.

"Did Charlotte give you my essay, Mr. Lucas?"

"Yes, she did. You didn't have to do that, you know. I would have accepted it late without penalty. Are you feeling better?"

She shrugs. "I've got the flu."

"I'm sorry," he tells her sympathetically. "I know that's no fun."

"I just hate how much work I'll have to make up now."

"Have you been quarantined from your sisters, then?"

Lizzy gives a croaky laugh. "I should have been. I got two of my sisters sick."

William has an urge to ask her which ones.

"By accident or as payback?" Mr. Lucas chuckles.

"Maybe a little bit of both. You know how misery loves company."

"I bet your mom loves having three sick daughters."

It surprises him how much Mr. Lucas knows about Lizzy's life, but then he remembers that she's friends with his daughter. He wonders how long Lizzy has known Mr. Lucas, wonders if he had been there for Lizzy when her father died, wonders Lizzy sees him as somewhat of a father figure.

William finds it odd that he wants to know these things, and he's a little bit annoyed with himself because he _could_ know these things, if he just started talking to her again.

The bell rings and Lizzy says something to Mr. Lucas before walking to her seat. She fixes him with a cold glare before she sits down.

He sighs. No, it has to be this way.

* * *

"What are you doing?" William demands.

He had walked into his office to find Wickham sitting in his chair, feet propped on his desk, counting cash with a smug smile on his face.

Wickham jerks back in surprise, the money falling all over the desk. He scrambles to pick it up while muttering a hasty apology.

"How did you even get in here?" William asks, crossing his arms and not bothering to help. When Wickham doesn't answer, William repeats himself.

"Your father gave me the key." His face flushes noticeably.

Either Wickham is a filthy liar or his father has no respect for William's privacy. He clenches his fist. Neither of these options makes him happy. "Why?"

There's half a second of hesitation, and William wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been watching so closely. "He needed that packet he gave you a few weeks ago."

"I see," William surveys his office, looking for the stack of packets he knew would be on his bookshelf. It appears untouched. "So, did you get it for him?"

Wickham has finally collected all the money he'd dropped and is now standing up straight, a few feet from the desk, a carefully blank look on his face.

William can see panic in the Wickham's eyes, and he knows he's caught him in a lie.

"I couldn't find them." William hears a slight tremor in his voice and notices Wickham's eyes quickly dart to the door. He wonders if Wickham has so little dignity that he's actually contemplating running away, rather than just staying and defending his actions or apologizing for them.

"So, you thought, since you were already in here, you'd just, what? Sit at my desk and-"

"It wasn't what it looked like," Wickham quickly cuts him off.

"Oh, really?" William asks incredulously. "What do you think it looks like?"

"I just got in here, probably about a minute before you came in. Not even a minute, actually. Just a couple of seconds. There are sixty seconds in a minute, and, you know, I really don't think it was even sixty, so it couldn't have been even a minute…I couldn't find the packet, so I just thought I'd wait for you to come in to show me where it was rather than going to your dad empty-handed."

William narrows his eyes. "So, you were in here less than a minute?"

Wickham nods emphatically.

"Maybe that's why you couldn't find the packet, because you didn't even spend a minute searching for it."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Wickham breathes a nervous laugh, avoiding eye contact.

"What was the packet he needed?"

"What?" Wickham asks, his eyes now scanning the room frantically.

"What was the packet that my father told you he needed?"

"That one about hiring people."

William shakes his head; the lies are just getting ridiculous now. "You're a liar."

Wickham's eyes widen. "What? William, I don't know what you're talking-"

"Don't play stupid." William says coldly.

There's silence, and judging by Wickham's face, he's weighing his options.

"What are you going to do?" Wickham finally asks, his voice resigned and his eyes downcast.

"I should fire you." God, he wishes he could.

His head jerks up. "For just coming into your office? Are you serious?"

"How about for blatantly lying to me?"

"Look, dude. Your dad gave me the key to your office because I told him I left something in here and needed to get it back-"

"What did you leave in here?"

Wickham reaches behind him and pulls out a watch from his pocket. "My watch. It fell off the other day because it's too big."

"Why didn't you just tell me that in the first place?"

"I panicked, alright?" Wickham is a lot calmer now. Perhaps he thinks he's in the clear. He's not. "I just sat at your desk for shits and giggles. I just got paid, and had a bunch of cash in my wallet, and just thought I'd pretend to be in your shoes for a little while. I didn't think it'd hurt anyone."

William is silent, trying to decide what he should do about this. His instinct is to tell Wickham to leave this building and never step foot inside it again, but he knows he doesn't have that authority.

"I didn't take anything, if that's what you're thinking," Wickham mumbles.

This makes William frown. Of course it had occurred him, but the fact that Wickham had brought it up makes him more suspicious.

"There are security cameras in my office," William lies recklessly, wanting to see his reaction. There are security cameras in the building, but none in his office - yet.

Wickham doesn't disappoint. His eyes widen again and the panic is back full force. "You're-you're supposed to tell your employees that."

"It's in the paperwork you signed when you got employed here."

"But…it's just in your office, right? The offices of the higher ups and stuff, right?"

"No, not just in the offices, all over the building. That would make more sense, don't you think?" Half of him enjoys watching Wickham sweat it, the other half of him is making a mental note to talk to his father about checking the security cameras.

"Right," Wickham mutters. "Yeah, that would make more sense."

"We don't generally look at them," William says. "Unless we need to for some reason."

"Look, William, I'm really sorry about being in your office and everything. I guess I'm just a little envious of all the stuff you have." His lips form a sheepish smile, but his eyes are still frantic.

"I'll have to talk to my father about this, of course."

"Of course, of course," Wickham nods, his eyes edge towards the door again.

"You can go." William's got everything he needs from him.

* * *

"We need to look at the security tapes."

His father blinks, though whether it's because William has just burst into his office without knocking or because of William's words, he doesn't know. "I beg your pardon?"

"I have reason to believe that your assistant, George Wickham, has done something he doesn't want us to know about. It'll be on the security tapes."

"What makes you so sure?"

"He was in my office."

"I gave him the key."

"Yes, he told me that." William feels his fists clench, but reminds himself that this is not an argument about how his father deliberately disregarded his desire for privacy. "I found him sitting in my desk counting cash."

"So you think he stole the cash?"

"No, I don't know where he got that. He said he got paid recently."

"He cashes his paychecks? I would have thought he'd put it in a bank account or something. Most employees do direct deposit."

William lets out a frustrated sigh. "It is irrelevant what he does with his paychecks. He has done something that he doesn't want us to know about." The silence between them stretches on for at least a minute, so William continues, "I told him that there are security cameras in my office-"

"There aren't any."

"I know that," William grits out. "However, he completely panicked when I told him that."

"He should know there are security cameras around the building though. It's in the contracts all employees sign."

"I know that too." His fists are now so tight that his nails are digging into his palms. "But he didn't."

"So, you're proposing that we look through, what? Several months' worth of security tapes? Do you know how long that would take? And just because you have a hunch that he did something?"

"I'll do it myself if you're unwilling to waste the resources."

"Why not just fire him for being in your office if you're so eager to get rid of him?"

"He had permission to be in there from _you_."

"I didn't give him permission to sit at your desk, to just dilly dally around while he was on the clock."

The truth is that William has considered that. He's wanted to fire Wickham before he ever had a real reason, but even he can admit that firing someone because of personal antipathy and for sitting at his desk is a bit harsh. "Don't you want to know if he's done more than just that though?"

"Of course, and we can look at the security tapes too, if you'd like." His father leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. "I'm just saying that it seems like you're in a hurry to get rid of George. You haven't exactly been his biggest fan, have you?"

This surprises William, not just because his father is willing to take his suggestions and let him do what he wants, but also because his father actually noticed something about him.

"Whether I like him or not has nothing to do with this."

"It does, William," his father contradicts. "I think if you had liked him a little more, you would have just forgiven him for being in your office."

"You're telling me that if you'd found him in your office, sitting in your chair with his feet on the desk like he owned the place, you would have just let him just walk away?"

"Obviously not." His father smiles, as if amused, though William can't imagine how this can be funny.

"So there's a double standard."

His father shrugs, smile still in place. "You have my permission to do whatever you want, William."

"Do I have your support?"

"I let you start working here to learn, William, and I think you're doing just that. I'll support whatever decision you make in this matter."

* * *

Wickham asks for a week off to study for his finals, so he's not around while William is watching dozens of security tapes.

It takes him the whole week to go through the videos, and it would have taken him longer had he not had a plan. He's good at creating plans. It's something he prides himself in. He has the ability to see the goal and figure out the best plan to achieve it.

He tries not to think about how his plan to get Lizzy out of his mind is currently going.

This plan, the one to figure out why George Wickham got so nervous at the mention of security cameras, is working out quite well. He had known that watching months of video footage would be time consuming, so he needs a more efficient way to go about it, especially since his father had made it clear that this side project was not to interfere with his other duties.

He begins by figuring out the times Wickham had been working in the last month, and he starts with those videos. Of course, he isn't sure if they'll get him anywhere, because for all he knows, Wickham could be doing things outside of work, but he figures that this is the best place to start.

It turns out he doesn't have to look much further than that. In the past month, Wickham has stolen about ten different items. They aren't huge things, or even really expensive things: an Apple smart mouse from the creative lab, a watch that someone had turned into the secretary just minutes earlier, a paperweight from his father's office. There is no pattern to the items, except that they fit into his pocket. William can't imagine them being very valuable on their own, and certainly not really worth risking your job to steal, but he's never claimed to understand the mind of George Wickham.

* * *

His father watches the videos silently, and doesn't even react when it gets to the part where Wickham steals from his office. When the tapes stop rolling, his father studies William carefully.

"You were right."

These words give him a huge sense of satisfaction and validation, there's no denying it. William tries to keep it from showing on his face as he simply gives a curt nod.

"So how do you propose we handle this situation, William?"

"Shouldn't we talk about the security of the building first?" William asks. It has been on his mind for a while. How had Wickham's theft gone undetected when they paid for the cameras and the guards?

"The security team watches dozens of screens at once, and usually it's for bigger crimes, not petty theft, William. George Wickham isn't dangerous; he's just a thief. This is a mistake on our part, since we hired George and trusted him."

_Not our mistake,_ William thinks. It's his father's mistake. Only his. It was his father's brilliant idea to hire Wickham in the first place. He hadn't talked to HR, he hadn't even given Wickham's resume more than a fleeting glance, he'd just hired him because he had seen _potential_.

"I'll have detectives come in and take a look at these videos and all the ones since the time George has been with the company, if we haven't taped over them. Then we'll look into pressing charges if he doesn't pay the company back for the things he's stolen. How does this sound?"

William frowns. He can't decide if his father is asking for advice or just asking if this course of action satisfies him. "Fine."

His father gives him a long stare, and William has to fight the urge to fidget, but then he nods and says, "Good job, William."

* * *

It frustrates him that all he wants to do is tell Lizzy about his findings. Not simply because she has a right to know what kind of person Wickham is or even to rub it in her face that he was right when he told her Wickham wasn't worth her time. The main reason he wants to tell her is because he thinks she might be a little impressed with him, with how he told his father, with how he spent his time watching the videos, with how he handled it all on his own.

He tries once or twice, but then he remembers his plan, _the_ plan. He remembers that he can't deviate from the plan.

* * *

"George isn't answering his phone," his father says as soon as William opens the door.

It is eleven o'clock at night, and William had hoped his father had knocked on his bedroom door to discuss the quickly approaching Christmas holidays, but he should have known better.

"It's been three days."

His father nods. "Yes, and it's been about two weeks since anyone's seen him."

"Do you think he left town?" William frowns at the thought, wondering if he had the decency to tell Lizzy anything before he left. Then he wonders _what _he would have told Lizzy.

"Perhaps." His father shrugs. "They say it looks like he hasn't been to his apartment in a while, so if he's still in town, they don't think he's staying there."

He gives a distracted nod, his mind still on Lizzy and how this might affect her.

"I just thought I'd give you an update."

"What are we going to do about all the missing things?"

His father gives him a strange look, the same one from the office a few days before, as if he's seeing William for the first time. "We'll replace them, of course. It's not like we don't have the money."

"Yes, I know. I meant the things Wickham stole that weren't company property. Ones that belonged to actual employees."

"We'll replace those too. Insurance covers theft."

"Are they upset?"

His father shrugs. "I doubt it. Most of them never really noticed the items were missing. I think George was strategic in the things he took."

"Right." They have nothing left to talk about, so William stands there, waiting for his father to make an excuse to leave.

It comes just as predicted. "Well, I've got a lot of work to do. I know you want to wash your hands of this George Wickham business, so I won't talk to you about it again until we find him."

"Alright."

When his father is halfway down the hallway, William calls after him. "Father?"

He turns. "Yes, William?"

"For Christmas, Georgiana wants shoes that light up and some new pieces to play on the piano."

"And you, William?" his father asks in a tone William can't place. "What would you like?"

Lizzy's face pops in his mind, and he scowls. He never gets a moment's peace from her. "I'm not sure yet."

"Let me know when you decide. I'll be sure to have someone pick up the gifts for Georgiana. It'd be easier to just go in one trip, but," his father gives a shrug. "It's no bother for me to have someone do two trips."

* * *

There's hardly any work to do at school on the day before Christmas break, and William doesn't even know why they're forced to go. The day just seems to be an outlet for girls to brag about the things they have. All day, girls prance around with brightly colored gift bags and stuffed animals and compete to see who gets the most things from their friends and boyfriends.

Lizzy, predictably, loses this competition spectacularly. Her two gift bags are stuffed inside her backpack so no one even knows she's received anything. William wouldn't have known had he not been watching her unpack her notebook and pen in Government.

He wants to ask her who she got those presents from. He wants to ask her what her plans are for the break. He wants to ask her if she's planning on going to Charles and Caroline's New Year's Eve party that everyone is talking about. He spends all of Government watching her from the corner of his eye and thinking about all the things he wants to ask her and imagining what her answers would be.

He walks over to where she's standing to wait for her mother to pick her up and, without preamble, asks her, "Are you still hanging out with George Wickham?" It's the only question he can justify asking.

She stiffens and gives him a cautious glance. "Are you talking to me?"

"Obviously."

"What's your deal with him? Got a man crush on him?" She won't look at him.

"Hardly." William rolls his eyes. "Just answer the question."

"We've had this conversation before."

"No, we haven't."

"Leave me alone." Her voice lacks conviction, and she really just seems tired. He wants to ask her why she's tired, if she's still recovering from the flu from a few weeks ago, or if it's something else.

He can't though. That's not part of the plan. "Look, Wickham is bad news, alright? He's in a lot of trouble, and you should really just stay away from him."

"You should just stay out of my business." Lizzy gives him a final glare before walking away.

He watches as she stands on the edge of the sidewalk, and realizes that her mother's not even here yet, that she just wants to get away from him.

If he were honest, William would admit that he's a bit disappointed by how quickly Lizzy has given up on him and how he just can't seem to do the same to her.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hi, hi, hiiiii! It's been forever, much longer than the month I promised, but that really couldn't be helped, I'm so sorry! Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait. I'm sorry for the lack of Lizzy/Darcy action, but that couldn't be helped either. Next chapter will have a lot more, I swear. My betas, Lyndell, Lynnie, and Erika, are awesome for putting up with my absence (I'll be contacting you ladies sooooon!). And, of course, so are all of you for reading and waiting. Please don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think.

P.S. Apparently the site won't let me keep my normal formatting with the &&& separating the scenes, so I just put line breaks for now. I'm sorry to anyone reading this story the first time because all the other chapters were changed without my knowledge, and I have to go back and edit them all when I have time. They must be super confusing without the breaks. SORRY!


	17. Miserable Up Here Without You

**When It Rains by everymonday  
Chapter Seventeen: Miserable Up Here Without You**

_But that's not why I'm here  
I came down here to tell you  
It rains in heaven all day long  
I wanna find you so bad and let you know  
I'm miserable up here without you  
Miserable up here without you_

- Armor for Sleep_; The Truth About Heaven_

* * *

The house smells like cinnamon and evergreen. There are lights strung everywhere, and William is sure their house could be one right out of a Christmas editorial from a magazine. It's just too bad that it's empty of anything that gives it meaning.

The decorations were bought and the staff had been paid to put them up. His mother had always been the one to do all the decorations. William stares at the lights, and he feels like it's all so artificial.

Mrs. Reynolds and Nathan were given a few days off, but his father hired a temporary cook so they wouldn't starve.

His mother had never cooked much when she was alive, since they'd always had a cook, but on Christmas Eve, she insisted on doing it herself. It hurts, sitting in a quiet room on this night, eating food that hasn't been cooked by his mother.

"Do we want to open all our gifts tonight?" His father asks as dinner is wrapping up.

"Mum never let us open them until Christmas Day," Gee says quietly.

"That's true," his father concedes. "But I just thought maybe you'd want to do things a little differently this year."

William thinks they're doing enough things differently, but he bites his tongue.

"Then what will we do on Christmas morning?" Gee asks, frowning.

"Whatever you'd like, I suppose." That means his father won't be with them. "You could play with your new toys."

Gee bites her lip and stares up at William. He shrugs. "Whatever you'd like, Gee."

He can see the battle on her face. She hasn't learned to conceal her feelings carefully yet. One part of her is eager to open her gifts, the other part of her knows that this is the only part of Christmas left. Once it's over, Christmas will be too.

"Let's open gifts tonight, then," she says finally.

His father smiles and rises from his chair. William notices that he leaves his plate on the table, perhaps because he's become accustomed to having a maid to clear everything for him. He's forgotten that he'd given the maid the week off as well. William wonders when his father will notice. Probably not until dinner tomorrow, at which time he'll reprimand at the temporary cook for not clearing this, even though it's not what she signed up for.

They make their way to the sitting room where the tree has been set up. William doesn't know who decorated it, but it looks impeccable. It's covered in twinkling lights and there are blue and white baubles hanging from its many branches. There's an impressive stack of brightly wrapped gifts underneath it, and William would be lying if he said he wasn't just a little bit curious as to what they contained.

"Georgiana, do you want to go first?" His father sits down on the couch, waiting.

She looks torn. Gee inspects the base of the tree, moving around boxes until she finds the one she's looking for. Instead of unwrapping it, she hands the box to William. "This one's yours. You can open first."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, William. It's from me." She smiles happily.

He smiles back and then tears the paper. It reveals a clumsily made picture frame covered in green and red macaroni. Inside, it has an aged photograph of a younger version of him, holding a baby Georgiana in front of a large pink birthday cake. They're both grinning at the camera.

"Where did you get this?" William asks when he can speak past the lump in his throat.

"Mum gave it to me a long time ago." Gee wrings her hands. "Do you like it William? I made the frame myself."

"I love it."

"Let me have a look." His father holds out his hand.

William hands over the picture frame wordlessly and watches as his father squints at the photo. His lips curve up into a smile, but his eyes don't change. "Funny, I don't remember this."

That makes sense, since his father was never there.

* * *

William sits on his bed and stares at the pile of gifts he received from his father this year: dozens of new shirts and trousers, three new pairs of shoes, a new laptop, and the keys to a brand new Audi.

If he turns his head, he can look out his window, which faces the front of the house, and see the Audi parked on the street. It had been purposely parked there, so that when he opened the small box with the key inside, he could simply open the front door and see it, rather than going into the garage. His father planned it well.

The car is a sleek black color with an elegant leather interior. He'd driven it around the block half because he needed to show his father he was grateful and half because Gee had expressed a desire to ride in his new car.

As great as the gift is, William doubts he'll get any use out of it besides driving to school and work. There's only one other place he'd like to drive it, and the map is under his bed, but he doesn't know what he'd do once he got there.

* * *

William spends Christmas Day driving around with Gee, who wears her new light-up shoes and a huge smile. She laughs at the fact that he sometimes forgets to stay on the right side of the road, and he smiles at how easily amused she is.

His father stays in his office, but William expected nothing less from him.

* * *

There's a crowd gathering at Charles's house for his New Year's party. William can hear the music pounding from his room, but that's because his window is open.

William is in no mood for a party. He doesn't know where his father is, and he doesn't care. Gee's just been put to bed, and it looks like William is going to ring in the New Year all on his own. He lies on his bed, one arm hanging off and touching the quilt on the ground.

He tries to remember what he had been doing this time last year, but he can't.

There's a bottle of scotch at the bottom of his dresser drawer. He thinks about drinking it, it might take the pain away, but it holds so many memories that he's afraid that taking it out will bring more pain.

It's from his father's study, the one that had been back in London. He can't remember how it started, but he and his mother had been playing some sort of game, and she'd dared him to take the bottle. Her eyes had been as wide as saucers when he'd presented her with the scotch.

When he'd gone to put it back, his mother stopped him. Instead of returning it, they shared a glass and his mother told him that he was going to be a great man someday. The alcohol had burned down his throat, and her words made his face flush. She had smiled at him and told him to keep the scotch, but hide it from his father. Then the driver took her to a meeting that was only supposed to last an hour or so, but neither of them ever came back.

He's horrified to find that there's a wetness in his eyes now. He squeezes them tightly, but a few tears leak out. He fists his hand around the quilt to stop his fingers from shaking. His lips start trembling so he presses them together. He's taut with tension.

"Darcy?"

He sits up quickly, his heart pounding. He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands until he's absolutely sure there's nothing there.

William opens the door to reveal Lizzy Bennet, standing there, biting her lip. His heart jumps violently at the sight of her in his doorway.

"What are you doing here?" he demands. His voice sounds angry to him, but he's really just shocked. She looks more lovely than usual. Her hair is straight and her eyes look bigger and brighter for some reason.

She flinches at his tone, and he realizes that she's never really heard him speak like this before. "I…was just going to Charlie's party-"

"I don't want to go anywhere with you."

"Right, and as much as that breaks my heart," she begins sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "I'm really just here because I ran into Mrs. Reynolds on the way to Charlie's, and she wanted me to come and bring you out of your self-induced solitary confinement."

He stares at her, confused. "Mrs. Reynolds sent you?" She'd been called to watch Gee for the night while his father did God knows what.

"Yeah," she sighs. "She was getting something from her car, I think, but then she said she thinks you really need a night out. She's under the impression that I could convince you to go."

"You could have just told her that she's wrong - that you can't convince me to do anything."

She gives him a derisive smile. "Oh, but why would I ever want to miss the opportunity to converse with people who can't stand the sight of me?"

He wants to correct her, tell her that it's not the _sight _of her he can't stand, but the feelings that come when he sees her. He hates feeling like he's going to have a heart attack at any second, he hates feeling like his stomach is in knots, he hates feeling like he has no control of himself whatsoever, but he doesn't hate the sight of her. It would be foolish to tell her that though. "You did what you told Mrs. Reynolds you'd do. I'll tell her I just wasn't in the mood, alright?"

Lizzy studies him in a way that makes him feel like she can see through him. He averts his eyes.

"What's your problem?" She asks contemptuously, as if what she sees isn't good enough.

"Look, I know Mrs. Reynolds cares, but it's not really any of her-"

"Good point about Mrs. Reynolds, but that's not even what I'm talking about." She rolls her eyes at him like he's supposed to know what goes on in that damn head of hers. "Why are your eyes all red?"

"What?" he croaks. His heart pounds anxiously.

"Your eyes. They're red. Like you've been-"

"Just get out of here, Lizzy!" he yells, because he can't handle her questions right now. "I thought you'd get the hint what with me not talking to you for, I don't know, _months_, but-"

"I was just trying-"

"I don't give a damn what you were trying to do. I don't want-"

"Fine! Stay in here by yourself!" Lizzy shouts over his voice. She turns on her heel and stomps away. "See if I care."

* * *

It's close to midnight by the time he makes it over to Charles's. He doesn't know why he's here, but her face keeps swimming in his mind. He needs some distraction because he _can't_ end this year thinking about her.

"Five minutes until midnight!" someone yells just as he maneuvers his way into Charles's living room. There's an air of excitement, and people are all dancing with cups or beer bottles in their hands.

William hears her laugh over the loud music and turns his head to see her with her hand on some guy's shoulder, her head thrown back in laughter. The guy has his hand on her hip and is whispering something in her ear. Something inside William breaks.

He doesn't even realize he's walking towards them until his feet carry him right in front of her and he grabs her wrist. Her skin scorches his, and he lets go quickly, shocked with himself. The cup she's holding tips over and spills on his shoes, but he doesn't notice. He has three new pairs anyway.

"What the _hell _is your problem?" Lizzy wrenches herself away and sets the cup down.

"You move fast, don't you?" he growls, glaring at her and then the wide-eyed boy who's just had his lips on her ear.

"_What_?"

"What, first Wickham, then _this_ tosser?" William gestures to the guy by her side.

"Lizzy, who is this guy?"

"I'm William Darcy," he tells him. "As in, my father owns the world's-"

"Nobody cares what your father owns, Darcy," she shoves him away. "Why are you even here?"

He has no fucking clue. _God damn_ her and her ability to make him completely irrational.

"You're such a child," Lizzy hisses at him, her eyes narrow with contempt. She grabs his wrist, shooting electricity up his arm, making the hairs on his skin stand up, and drags him behind her. "You know, you're not obligated to ruin _every_ good moment I have, you don't even-"

He realizes she's taken him back outside, where there are hardly any people. The thought that he might have embarrassed her grates on his nerves. As if _she's_ the one who has any right to be embarrassed. "Excuse me? Did you just call me a _child_?"

"Yes. I did. You heard me," she replies. "But in case you wanted to hear it again, I said that you're a-"

"I came here because you wanted me to, and then I-"

"Let's get one thing straight, you _asshole_. I didn't_ want_-"

"-that guy had his hands all over you-"

"-only came to your door because Mrs. Reynolds-"

"-always find you in situations where_ I_ have to-"

"-like I really care whether or not you stay in your room-"

"-pretend you came on my housekeeper's wishes when we both know you-"

"-_completely _overreacting. He didn't have his hands all over-"

"How does that make me a child?" He's completely red in the face from their screaming match.

She shivers, and crosses her arms. "You haven't spoken to me in weeks, and you have the nerve-"

"Actually, its _you _who hasn't spoken to me," he corrects her.

Her face flushes deeper. "Oh, right, because after the way you_ insulted_ and_ ignored_ me, I'm just _dying _to be your friend. I'm one hell of a masochist."

"You must be if you're dating Wickham."

"God, Darcy," she exclaims, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Just because _you_ think I'm 'not pretty enough to tempt you' doesn't mean everyone else does!"

"That's _not _what this is about," he tells her stubbornly.

"So this _isn't _you throwing a hissy fit because someone else is playing with your toy?"

It's his turn to narrow his eyes at her. He can't help the words that come out next. "Did you really just call yourself a toy? Obviously being with Wickham has helped you get a sense of your worth."

Lizzy doesn't even flinch. "It was a metaphor, and you're a fucking prick, Darcy."

"_Ten! Nine! Eight!"_ The people inside have started counting down to the New Year. Ten more seconds of the year left, and this is how he spends it: arguing with Lizzy Bennet about metaphors. _"Seven!"_

"How is it a metaphor? You said you're a toy, but I'm still me, so it was uneven and-"

"_Six!"_

"Are we actually arguing about this? A metaphor is a comparison of two things not using like or as. Therefore, I-"

"_Five!"_

"Yes, and _you_ were compared to a toy but _I _was compared to nothing."

"_Four!"_

"The two things were _me_ and the _toy_, not _you_ and _me_. It's not always about you and me."

"_Three!"_

His mouth is open, but the words die at his throat when he realizes that she's right.

The smirk that forms on her lips tells him she knows it too. "If you really want to be compared to something, you're the _child_."

"_Two!"_

He's had enough of this. "Fine," he grits out. "Do whatever the hell you want, Lizzy."

"_One!"_

It's his turn to storm away. Happy fucking New Year.

* * *

William ducks into the bathroom in the hallway for some privacy. He has no idea why he even came to this party or why he doesn't just leave instead of hiding out in the bathroom.

He splashes water on his face just as there is a knock on the door.

"Someone's in here," he calls.

There's another knock.

William runs his wet hand through his hair and uses the other to pull open the door, ready to give the knocker a piece of his mind.

Only, Lizzy Bennet is the knocker, and she's fuming.

They stare at each other for how long, he doesn't know. He's frozen to his spot, water dripping down his face, one hand still in his hair, staring at the splatter of freckles on her nose.

Suddenly, she uses both her hands to shove him backwards with a surprising amount of strength and kicks the door shut behind her. He hears the distinctive sound of the lock turning and wonders what the bloody hell she thinks she's doing.

William opens his mouth to ask her precisely that, only she beats him to it.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" She's glaring at him boldly with those gray-blue eyes of hers.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replies, his eyes moving between her and the door she's just locked.

"I'm getting answers." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before crossing her arms.

He's slightly distracted by the fact that her hair is tamer than he's used to. Her loose, dizzying curls have been replaced by straight strands that don't look bad, exactly, but aren't her. She's wearing more makeup too. Her lips look glossier, and her eyelashes are longer.

"Well?" Her foot is tapping impatiently as she stares at him.

"Well what?" She smells like her usual citrus and lilacs, a smell he's surprised to realize he's sorely missed. She's wearing a dark green top that looks quite nice on her. The neckline is low and the blouse hugs her slim figure in a way that her school uniform doesn't. It also exposes more skin than he's used to, but he's not complaining. Her long hair covers most of her shoulders, but he knows they're bare except for the thin straps holding the top up. He thinks about asking her if her hair had grown that much since they'd stopped talking, or if it's just because she straightened it tonight.

"Talk to me!" It's not a plea, a request, or a question. It's a harsh demand.

William Darcy is his father's son through and through, for better or for worse, and he doesn't do well with people demanding things of him. "No."

Her arms come out and push him again, and he's forced to take a step back. She takes a step towards him, then another until their bodies are mere inches from one another. William can feel her body heat radiating and mixing with his. "What the hell is your problem with me?"

She's a whole foot shorter than him, and he uses it to his advantage by staring down at her, pretending their proximity has no effect on him. "I thought I made myself quite clear."

His height does nothing to intimidate her. "Bullshit."

He sees her hand come up again, and he grabs it before she can touch him again. "Stop pushing me."

"Then answer my fucking question!" She uses her free hand to hit him and wrenches her other hand free.

He takes hold of her shoulders, wincing at the heat he feels when his hands touch her bare skin. "Leave me alone."

"Not until you tell me why you suddenly hate me!" Her nostrils flare dangerously, and she pokes him squarely in the chest.

William lets out an even breath and says as calmly as possible, "I don't hate you."

"Then why have you ignoring me?"

He drops his hands. "I'm not ig-"

"Don't lie to me," she snarls. "I'm a lot of things, Darcy, but I'm not an idiot." Lizzy pushes him again, though there's no force in it this time. "I've been thinking about it for the past few weeks, and I can't figure it out. I don't know what I did to you to make you hate me like this."

"I already told you that I don't hate-"

"You don't even treat _Caroline_ with this much contempt." Her eyes are glassy now, and he feels like an utter cad for being the one to put her in this state. "I just don't know what I did, Darcy." Her voice cracks and he has to look away from her eyes. He sees her hands clench into fists.

"I-" He can't think of anything to say beyond that. William lets go of her shoulders, takes a step backwards, and feels the wall behind him. There's a pause, then nothing. Nothing but skin particles in the air and a confession of something on his lips that he has to bite down because he's not sure what it is.

"You don't get to play stupid, Darcy." The fierceness is back in her voice, and her eyes, though still glassy, have regained their determination. "You don't get to-"

In the end, it's the smell of citrus and lilacs that does him in. He takes one of her tight fists in his hands and pulls her to him. His other hand goes around her waist and he turns them so that it's her back against the wall. He feels hot, hot_, hot,_ and he can't bloody think straight at all.

Then his lips are crashing onto hers, and nothing else seems to matter. He can feel her breathe out harshly through her nostrils that were flaring at him just seconds ago. He begins to think this is a bad idea, but then she presses her body into his, and he can feel the grooves and curves of her bones and flesh, and he can't do anything _but_ feel.

Lizzy's lips are soft and sticky against his and taste of strawberry. He loves the warmth of her mouth and tugs her bottom lip between his own. Her fisted hand, the one that's being held captive by his, opens and her fingers lace with his, and her other hand goes around his neck.

Her lips part, and William dips his tongue in. The inside of her mouth tastes vaguely of beer and something else, something fresh and good, something that he can't quite name, but something he likes. Their tongues collide in an explosion of heat, setting every cell in his body on fire. He's not sure how long they stay like that, exploring each other's mouths in a feverish frenzy, but all too soon, over the haze of his rapid heartbeat in his ears, William hears a knock at the door.

From the way Lizzy stiffens in his arms, he knows she hears it too.

The doorknob rattles. "William! Are you in there?"

Lizzy lets out an annoyed huff and carefully untangles herself from him. "No, Caroline. It's me."

He mouths a grateful thank you to her, and Lizzy rolls her eyes and gives him a familiar smirk before breaking eye contact. They both listen as the clicking of heels gets farther and farther away. William studies her as she studies the door. Her face is flushed and her lips, now swollen thanks to his, have lost their shine.

Soon, the clicking is gone and there is nothing but silence and awkwardness occupying the space between them. He considers pulling her back and getting back to where they left off, considers talking about it, considers explaining his twisted reasons for ignoring her these miserable weeks, reasons that he really isn't sure make sense. He considers catching her up on his life, and making her catch him up on hers, because he knows a lot has happened, a lot has been missed. Mostly, he's missed her, though he'll never, ever admit that to her.

Excuses and considerations dance in his head, and he'd like to think he would have done _something_, had she not just walked out the door without giving him the chance.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Heyyyyyy there. Remember me? It's been a while, hasn't it? Yeahhh, I'm really sorry about that. I could give you guys a million excuses as to why I haven't updated in forever, but it won't change the fact that I haven't updated in forever. Long story short, I did a lot of job hunting, finally found a job (that I'm COMPLETELY IN LOVE WITH), relocated, and had to deal with a few grown up things. So yeah. I'm back now. Not to super steady updates, but back. Thank you so much to everyone that left a kind review or sent me a PM. Please don't worry about me giving up on this story. I love this story and plan on finishing it, even if it takes me a while. The only thing that would stop me from finishing is death. And that's not an exaggeration. Please let me know what you think of this chapter! I've honestly had it a while, thanks to my awesome betas, I just never found time to upload it and edit it for this site (the formatting issues on this site have been bugging me so much, but I finally fixed all my other chapters). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to leave a review. See you soon. (seriously)


	18. You're My Wonderwall

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Eighteen: You're My Wonderwall**

_And all the roads we have to walk are winding_

_And all the lights that lead us there are blinding_

_There are many things that I would like to say to you_

_But I don't know how _

_Because maybe_

_You're gonna be the one that saves me_

_And after all_

_You're my wonderwall_

_- _Oasis_; Wonderwall_

* * *

"_Just stay calm. You did the right thing. I'll be there as soon as I can," he says to the person on the phone. He should have called her back sooner, she sounds almost hysterical now. He feels awful. "Hopefully I'll see you in a few hours."_

_There's panicked breathing on the other end, but they both hang up without another word. _

_William rubs his eyes and forces himself to get out of bed. He pulls a leather valise from the closet and begins stuffing it with clothes. Then he changes out of his pajama pants and into some dark blue jeans and contemplates keeping on the soft Oxford tee shirt he has on. _

_His movements are sluggish because he's still sleepy, and his mind wants to remain in the past. It wants to continue remembering Lizzy and her softness, rather than dealing with the harsh, hard facts of life that are hitting him right now. It doesn't want to think about the situation at hand. He sighs as he walks to the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash water on his face. _

_While he's looking for socks and shoes to wear, he calls his assistant and tells her that he needs a flight to Sausalito, California as soon as possible, preferably within the hour. The assistant sounds tired too, but she assures him that she'll call him back in a few minutes with his flight details. _

_Just as William is putting his laptop in the valise, his phone rings. _

"_William Darcy speaking."_

"_Mr. Darcy, I tried to get you a first class flight to San Francisco, but they're all booked, so I found a flight to Oakland International-"_

"_I need to get to Sausalito, and if I land in Oakland I'll lose at least-"_

"_Yes, I know, sir. I thought about that too. However, the flight to Oakland leaves in forty minutes, and there's a first class seat, whereas the flight to San Francisco leaves in fifty, but it only has coach seats. I can see if the company plane is available if neither of these flights suits you."_

_He rolls his eyes. The company plane would be a waste of resources and would take at least an hour to set up. Leaving ten minutes early on the Oakland flight wouldn't make up for the time he would lose by landing there. The choice was clear. "Put me on the coach seat to San Francisco." _

"_A-are you sure, sir?"_

"_Yes. I don't have a problem flying coach, I just need to get to Sausalito." God, even his assistants are snobs._

"_Yes, sir." William can hear furious typing in the background. "You should have no problem checking in and getting on the plane. Your driver should be by to pick you up shortly." _

"_Thank you." _

_He's already pulling the phone away from his ear to hang up when she says, "Wait. Mr. Darcy, did you need me to accompany you?" _

"_No, this is a personal trip." William almost feels bad for her. She seems so eager to do things for him, but he never has anything for her because he'd rather do most of them himself. "I need you to reschedule all of my appointments for the next week."_

"_There's a client presentation for the Coca-Cola account on Friday…" _

Bloody hell_, William thinks as he takes two of his best suits from the closet. They'd been working on winning that account for months. "Richard will have to do it by himself." _

"_What should I tell them, if they ask?"_

"_I have an emergency that I must tend to right away." William puts her on speakerphone so that he can put on his blazer. There's no point on wearing anything more than this. The weather in California would be cool, at most. "I'll be back as soon as I can."_

"_Yes, sir."_

"_I'll call you if I need anything else." He grabs his valise, suits, and phone, looking around quickly to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything. _

"_Have a safe flight, Mr. Darcy."_

"_Thank you." Just as he's hanging up, he spots his driver pulling the car up. William also notices that it's raining. Of course._

* * *

William wanders through Charles's house looking for Lizzy. His body hums with a whole mess of emotions, and he feels absolutely rattled.

He doesn't find Lizzy, but he catches a lot of couples in varying degrees of undress. He can't help but notice a pattern: it is usually one person from the private school entangled with someone from the public school. At least, he thinks so. He can't be sure since he hasn't really made an effort to know anyone at the private school he attends.

Still, he wonders why that is.

"William!"

He stops, and that is his mistake. He was so engrossed in his thoughts and wildly hoping for Lizzy to call his name that he stopped at the first sound of it, not even remembering that she never called him William.

"I'm so glad you came! I thought I saw you go into the bathroom, but couldn't find you after that." Caroline says, throwing her arms around him. "Happy New Year!" Her breath is hot on his neck, and he feels like he is suffocating in her scent.

"Happy New Year," he mumbles, trying to quickly untangle himself. "Have you seen-"

"Can you believe all the slumming our friends are doing?" Caroline cuts him off, curling her lip in distaste.

She misreads his indifference and continues, "Don't tell me you haven't noticed. It's disgusting, really. Are people from our circle really so desperate that they'll get it on with the degenerates from the other side of town?"

It can hardly be considered the other side of town, really. The area to which Caroline is referring is a short drive away. "You think that's what it is? They're desperate?"

Caroline smiles as she shrugs her shoulders. "What else could it be?"

"Maybe they genuinely like each other." William thinks of Charles and Jane. He knows that's a feeble argument, but he hates admitting Caroline could be right about anything. That, he thinks, is Lizzy's influence. He looks around for any sign of her and is disappointed when he sees none.

"Oh, come on." Caroline puts her hand on his forearm, bringing his attention back to her. "Meryton Prep kids are just trying to get laid and the public school kids either want to get laid just as much, or they have another agenda."

"Is there room for another agenda when you're trying to have sex?" William asks before he can stop himself. He scratches the back of his head in an effort to break the skin on skin contact with her.

Caroline laughs. "Sure there is."

William thinks he should take Caroline's word for it, because according to the rumors, she's had _a lot_ of sex, so she would know. However, his mind takes him back to moments earlier when he was kissing Lizzy Bennet and reminds himself that all his mind had room for was _her_.

"Have you seen Charles? I want him to kick everyone out. It's past midnight, so it's acceptable. I'm bored."

"I haven't seen him. He's probably with Jane somewhere."

Caroline rolls her eyes and sighs, clearly annoyed. "_She's_ got another agenda."

William is getting annoyed too. There's a girl with straight, dark hair just behind Caroline, but it's not Lizzy. She's off somewhere, and he's stuck here with Caroline.

"You think so?" He asks, still trying to scan the room. The worst he can say about Jane Bennet is that she's a bit vacuous. Though she's very pretty, she rarely adds to conversations the way Lizzy does. He'd never seen her be particularly affectionate with Charles, but he doesn't believe she has the capacity of having an agenda.

"She doesn't care for Charles at all, William! Don't you see it?" Caroline puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. "Charles is always picking pretty, airheaded girls that don't ever return his affections. It's pathetic."

"Do you think he's going to get hurt?"

Caroline's sharp eyes study him carefully before she answers, "I do. This always happens. He falls for a girl, they enjoy a few good months together, and then the girl dumps him when he's given her enough presents. Then who's stuck putting Charles back together? _Me_."

William makes an effort to take in the situation at hand. It's a struggle, as he's still wondering where the hell Lizzy went, but he regards Caroline thoughtfully, trying to figure out how much of what she is saying is true. "I've never seen Charles give Jane anything."

She lets out an indelicate snort. "Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it doesn't happen, William."

"I suppose." William is still doubtful, as he can't picture Caroline being bothered to put anyone back together, but he wants this conversation over. He's wasted too much time, there has been no sign of Lizzy.

Caroline moves closer to him and reaches out to fix the collar of his shirt. "You should talk to him. He respects your opinion. He'll listen to you."

"What would I say?" Her fingertips brushing against the skin of his neck bothers him in a way he can't explain, and he takes a small step back, hoping she'll get the hint.

"You've noticed it, haven't you? How indifferent Jane is to him?" Either she doesn't get the hint or she's ignoring it because her hands are still on him.

William believes that Jane is like that with everyone, but he doesn't say that to Caroline.

Her palms are now open flat on his shoulders. "Just talk to him, William. Please?" She leans her body into his and looks up at him with a pout on her lips.

He nods quickly before pulling away from her and fleeing.

* * *

It's close to one in the morning when the crowd starts thinning. William sits on the couch, ignoring the girls that try to talk to him and debating whether or not he should do one more sweep of the house before giving up on finding Lizzy.

William scowls, annoyed that he even has to be looking for her when it should be the other way around. The more he thinks about it, the more indignant he gets. Eventually, pride wins, and refusing to be the one to have to go find her, he stays where he's at.

* * *

He returns to the house half an hour later, with exhaustion in his bones and the taste of Lizzy still on his tongue.

* * *

William dreads the first day back because he has no idea what to expect from Lizzy. He hates being unprepared, so he catalogs the list of reactions he might receive: a coy smile, a knowing look, an awkward glance, perhaps even a heated glare. He readies himself for any and all of them.

Her seat is empty though. He stands in the doorway, wondering if she's avoiding him.

"Darcy?"

His body gives a small jump. He turns his head, surprised to see her standing behind him.

She gives him a casual smile and looks at him expectantly.

"What?" He is confused. He hadn't factored in casual.

"You're kind of in the way."

He moves to the right, giving her enough room to pass him. Her side brushes his, and he watches her face carefully for something - anything - but there's nothing. No flush on her cheeks, no stars in her eyes, nothing.

William follows her into the classroom and takes his seat. He stares at the back of her head, willing her to turn around and give him more clues as to how she's feeling, but she does no such thing.

He takes a deep breath. "How was your break, Lizzy?"

Her shoulders tense, but she turns around and gives him a shrug. "Fine. Boring. I didn't do much. How was yours?" Her expression is politely inquisitive, nothing more.

He stares at her, dissecting her words in his mind and trying to read her eyes, searching for the meaning in them. "The same for me," he answers finally.

Something flashes in her eyes, but it's gone so quickly that he doesn't know what to make of it. She nods, giving him a brief smile before turning around in her seat to face the front again. As if they have nothing left to talk about. As if nothing had happened between them. As if it all meant nothing to her.

* * *

For the rest of the day, William can't concentrate on anything but Lizzy's indifferent behavior. She hadn't done any of the things he had prepared himself for. She hadn't even given him the cold shoulder. She's just been civil to him, the way she is with everyone.

His stomach turns uncomfortably with something that feels a lot like disappointment.

* * *

He thinks, _surely_, she'll talk to him in Government. They sit next to each other, and her behavior this morning made it clear she's done ignoring him.

Lizzy sits down and begins her routine of unpacking her supplies. When she finally looks up at him, she gives him that non-descript smile of acknowledgment before going back to her belongings.

William frowns. She could have given that smile to anyone. He certainly deserves more than a mere smile. Collin might have deserved a smile, but _him_? He'd _kissed_ her. Did that mean nothing to her? How can she remain so unaffected in his presence?

"Are you working after school today?" she asks, not looking at him anymore. Her voice sounds tight, strained. She coughs, as if to try to rid her throat of whatever's keeping her from sounding casual.

"Yes." He frowns. "Why?"

She shrugs. "I haven't talked to you in a while."

They both ignore the weight of her words, their implication of a time that seems light years away. "Why wouldn't I?"

Lizzy turns her head and meets his eyes. Her eyes are guarded, her eyebrows are knit together, and her lips are pursed. "Why wouldn't you what?"

"Why wouldn't I be working?"

She doesn't reply right away. Her cheeks flush and her eyes dart to something behind his head before returning to his. "Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe you'd get a day off or something."

"I have the weekends off."

Her lips curve into a ghost of a smile. "You'd think since you're the son of the boss, you'd get more than weekends off."

William doesn't know if she's teasing him because he can't read her eyes, which remain deliberately vacant. He's not used to seeing her eyes like this. He doesn't like it.

"You'd think so."

She looks away again, and his eyes travel from her face, down her neck and shoulder to the hand she has resting on the desk. Her pointer finger is tapping rather quickly on the wood, like she's nervous or excited about something.

Class starts before William can talk himself into asking her about it.

* * *

When class ends, Lizzy is out of the room so fast that William barely has time to blink.

* * *

Tuesday and Wednesday follow the same routine, and William can't decide if this is a new game they're playing. It's tiring, and he doesn't seem any closer to getting passed the walls in her eyes.

"What are you writing your story about?" he asks as soon as she sits down in Creative Writing on Thursday.

She bites her lip and shrugs. "I haven't started it yet."

"It's due Monday, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I've got all weekend." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "What are you writing about?"

"I don't know. I haven't started either."

Lizzy smirks. "Trying to bum some ideas off of me, then?"

He snorts. "Hardly. I have great ideas. Remember when I wrote about P.E.?"

At times, the smile she gives him is genuine. The skin near her eyes crinkle and her head tilts and her eyes shine a little bit brighter as the defenses inside them shift. Then, all too quickly, as if she suddenly remembers where she is and whom she's with, she blinks and it all goes away. He's left thinking that he imagined it all.

"Gee still has that bracelet you gave her," he says casually.

"Yeah?"

William nods, debating whether or not he should elaborate about how he knows she and Gee talked to each other at the park.

"You should take her to the park sometime. I see her there with Mrs. Reynolds a lot now."

"It's because of work."

"Yeah, I-"

"William!" Caroline exclaims. William has to hold back a groan.

He catches Lizzy's lips form a thin line before she turns around in her seat. He thinks he sees the disappointment in his eyes reflected in hers.

"Yes, Caroline?"

"I feel like we haven't talked at all since the party, William." She puts a hand on his arm. Her cold fingers rub circles in his skin, making it crawl.

He says nothing, but he tries to shrug her off as subtly possible.

"I actually tried to catch you before midnight. I wanted to start the New Year off right, you know?" Caroline's voice is loud, and William knows by the way her eyes look scan the classroom that it's on purpose. "I don't think you got there until after midnight, right?"

"Right." As soon as he utters the word, Lizzy's back stiffens. He frowns, wondering why she thinks she's allowed to pretend nothing happened between them, but he's not. If she's going to pretend that they didn't kiss, then he's going to pretend he didn't spend the last few moments of the year with her.

It's petty, but so is this game they're playing.

* * *

William stares at the blank sheet of paper like he has so many times before. The assignment is to write a short story, fictional or factual. He knows what he wants to write about, but he can't get his pen to move.

His eyes remain on the page until the blue lines blur into each other and become unfocused. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on the page with a defeated sigh.

After a several slow breaths, he straightens up and forces his hand to grasp the pen firmly. He writes the title quickly, before he can change his mind.

_Rainstorm Girl._

* * *

Her eyes are hopeful when they meet his in Creative Writing. He watches as she brings her lower lip between her teeth and stares at him, as if waiting for something.

William has to force himself not to stare at her mouth. Instead, he gives her an acknowledging nod and knows instantly that it's not what she wants. Disappointment floods her eyes briefly before the walls come up, and she turns away.

He stares at the back of her head, wondering what on earth she had been expecting from him.

"What are you doing this weekend?" he asks quietly.

She begins to turn around, but then Caroline answers, "Oh, William, how nice of you to ask!" Lizzy freezes and he hears her give a small sigh.

"I don't really have any plans. So we should really do something together," Caroline continues, reaching out to put her hand on his.

He moves his hand away quickly, his patience with Caroline has officially run out. "I was actually asking Lizzy." He knows his words surprised both Lizzy and Caroline, but honestly, no one is more shocked that William himself.

Caroline is silent for several seconds, before she finally narrows her eyes at Lizzy. "_Why_?"

William wonders what he's gotten himself into, but it's too late to go back now. "Because I'd rather talk to her than you."

Her jaw drops. "_Excuse _me? Did you just say you'd rather talk to _her_ than _me_?"

"Yes." He's not even looking at Caroline anymore. His attention is on Lizzy. He can tell by the tilt of her head and the stiffness in her shoulders that she's listening.

She turns around in her seat slowly, but Mr. Lucas begins class before Lizzy can say anything. Just before she looks away, William catches a small smile on her lips and the hopeful look back in her eyes.

* * *

William considers sitting with Lizzy at lunch, hoping they can talk. He's tired of dancing around this. He needs to know what she's thinking. She's not making it easy to read on her face or in her eyes, so he'll have to convince her to talk about it.

It's annoying because this is not something he should have to do. _She_ should be the one that is eager to talk, not the other way around. He hates that she's forcing him to be the one to make the first move. He should be able to predict her moves in this game of chess because she is supposed to be like every other girl he's dealt with. Lizzy is not supposed to be different. Things are not supposed to be this hard for him.

He spots her walking towards him on his way to the cafeteria and frowns. How is he supposed to sit with her when she isn't there? When she's close enough, he taps her shoulder. "Are you not going to lunch?"

She looks surprised, but recovers quickly. "I'm eating in the art room."

"Why?"

"Because I feel like it. It's where I've been eating all week."

They stand there, staring at each other while other students walk around them to get to the cafeteria. William can see from the corner of his eye that some students are giving them curious looks, but none of them stop. For that, he's grateful.

Lizzy pushes some hair off her forehead. When a curl escapes her hand, he has that crazy urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear like he's seen her do so many times before. He stuffs his hands inside his pockets.

Finally, she takes a breath and looks away. Her eyes dart everywhere but him - the lockers, the floor, the ceiling, the other students. When they return back to him, they look resigned. "Well, I guess I'll see you later."

"Do you eat by yourself?" he asks just as she takes a step away from him.

Her eyebrows knit together. "Sometimes. Sometimes other students are there."

"I can't see many people wanting to spend their lunch hour in a classroom."

She shrugs, but says nothing.

"What are you working on now?" He wants Lizzy to ask him to join her, and in his mind, he can admit that. So he keeps talking, even though he _despises_ small talk, in hopes that she'll understand what he wants.

"Stuff for my portfolio," she answers. He can see her fingers bend slightly and straighten out again. He wonders if she's waiting for something too.

"Portfolio?"

"For art school." Her voice sounds loud in the empty hallway. The crowd is gone, and it's just the two of them now.

"I see."

Her fingers mess with the straps of her backpack, and she begins looking around again. Her eyes don't come back to him this time though.

"I've never been to the art room," he says. He promises himself that this is the only hint he'll give her. If she doesn't get it after this, then he'll give up.

Lizzy frowns. Her forehead has four distinct lines in it. "Well, why would you go there? You don't take art."

William feels his face heat up. It's time to give up, he tells himself. He opens his mouth to tell her he'll see her later, he's going to go to lunch now. "Can I join you?"

He grimaces. The lack of control he has over his mouth these days is truly alarming.

Her eyes are wide with surprise. "What?"

He scowls. Is she really going to make him repeat himself? He doesn't think he can.

She seems to get that, so, after an agonizing minute, she speaks up. "If you really want to, I guess."

* * *

He meets her in the art room after buying his lunch. They sit together at one of the tables, eating silently. Every now and then, he catches her staring at him with determination in her eyes like she's steeling herself to say something, but then she realizes he's watching her and looks away quickly.

"You're not going to paint?" he asks curiously.

"Probably not."

"Why not?"

She fixes him with that look she uses when she thinks he's asked a stupid question, the look he absolutely hates.

They fall into another silence. He hates that she makes him feel like this. He can't stand that every moment with her is work, that she probably knows what he wants from her, but she refuses to give it to him. Every step is on unstable ground, every word falls to critical ears, every action is observed by those fierce eyes. He feels foolish and happy and curious and stupid and _crazy_. He hates that he feels so many things at once that he doesn't know _what_ he feels anymore.

"Are you just going to ignore it?" she asks quietly, staring at him with guarded eyes.

William is afraid of what his own eyes are giving away, but he refuses to break eye contact. His heart drums frantically in his chest, beating so fast he thinks it might break his ribs. William considers asking her to clarify, but it's pointless. They both know what she's referring to. "No."

A length of silence stretches between them.

Lizzy swallows audibly, a hard expression on her face. "Do you regret it?"

"No."

* * *

**Author's Note: Hiiiiiiiii! Remember me? If you're reading this, I suppose you haven't given up on this story completely, which is more than I could have really hoped for after my ridiculously long absence. I'm sure you don't care about where I was or how hard being a real grown up was for me. I've been writing the entire time I was gone, I just wanted to have the story finished before I came back so that there wouldn't be anymore long hiatuses again. I have completed the story, but it is in need of some major editing, which actually works out because I have some _amazing ladies helping me out. Lynnie, Erika, and Colleen are pretty much god sends and this story wouldn't be nearly as good if they weren't cold reading/editing for me. William finally got out of the bathroom! Yay!_**

As always, please let me know your thoughts. :)

I've missed you all so much!


	19. The Way You Make Me Feel

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Nineteen: The Way You Make Me Feel**

_Give me skies of black and blue, the way you make me feel_

_Give me skies of green and red, cold winds to make it real_

_Storms are brewing deep within of hurt and loss and pride_

_It's good to see the world in pain when I take a walk outside_

_When it rains, I don't mind being lonely_

_I cry right along with the sky_

_- _Eli Young Band_; When It Rains_

* * *

He feels exposed, naked, bared. It's hard to breathe.

If his answer evokes any feelings from her, she gives no indication. Her face is a carefully blank canvas; her eyes still defensive. "What do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know." He feels like he's being interrogated, and he doesn't like it. He's putting himself out there, and she isn't giving anything back. "What do _you_ want to do about it?"

She smiles at her homemade sandwich and takes a bite, obviously stalling. When she's done chewing, she asks, "Do I have to sign a non-disclosure contract?"

The corner of his lips twitch. "No, feel free to tell people how good my techniques are."

Lizzy rolls her eyes. "You're so arrogant," she tells him, the smile on her mouth softens the blow of the insult. "You weren't that good."

"Liar."

She laughs. It's the first one he's heard from her in a while, directed at him anyway. He's forgotten how much he likes the sound of it. Lizzy props her elbow up on the table and puts her chin in her hand. "What took you so long?"

"What?"

"To do something."

"I don't know," he answers. He isn't even sure he knows what she's referring to, to be quite honest. Is she asking why it took him so long to kiss her? Or why it took him so long to talk to her again since that kiss? William stares at her hand that's resting on the table and gathers up his courage. "It's been strange without you."

It's the most he can tell her, without feeling ridiculous. He hopes it's enough.

She seems to consider his answer for a moment, but then gives him a small smile.

* * *

"What are you doing after school today?" It had taken him all of Economics class to convince himself to ask her that. Their talk had done very little to ease his mind. They hadn't actually discussed what it was that was going on between them. There was only a weak acknowledgement that there _was_ something.

She seems taken aback by his question, but to be fair, she hadn't even taken her seat when he blurted out the question. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Why?"

"I'm thinking about going to the park." He watches her throw her old orange backpack on her desk and take her seat.

Lizzy looks guarded, a look that he's not used to seeing on her. In reality, he should be, because that's all she's been this week. Although, at least now they're talking, so that's an improvement. "I thought you had work after school," she tells him, as she unzips her backpack, still not looking at him.

"I don't think my father will mind if I skip." It's more speculation than an outright lie, he tells himself.

"I see." Her hair is getting longer. The way she tilts her head as she takes out her notebook and pen makes it impossible for him to get a good glimpse of her face without being completely obvious.

He grows impatient. "Are you going to make me ask you?"

She runs a hand through her hair and looks at him with a smirk. "Maybe."

"You should come to the park with me," he says stubbornly.

Her face doesn't change. "That's not a question."

"It's a request." She should know how rare it is for him to request anything. It's usually a demand. He is a Darcy, after all. He can't even remember the last time he _asked_ someone for something.

Lizzy purses her lip and says, "It's actually more of a suggestion, I think."

"Semantics." It comes out harsher than he had intended, but that's mainly because he's so anxious to get this conversation over with.

She raises an eyebrow, her eyes as defensive as ever. They stare at each other for what feels like hours, until Lizzy turns back to her supplies. She has everything she needs on her desk already, so she slowly zips up her backpack and puts it under her desk by her feet. This is all done at an agonizingly slow pace, and William is forced to sit there and watch her, wondering if it's always been this difficult with girls.

He sighs. "What difference does it make whether it's a question or a request?"

Lizzy turns her head to him. "You tell me, you're the one who doesn't want to ask me."

William is in between desire and pride, a place in which he finds himself way too often when he's around her. "Please," he tries. It's a compromise.

Lizzy blinks at him, her eyes are softer, but the rest of her remains stubbornly distant. "You're a spoiled brat, Darcy."

* * *

"I can take you to the park," he as nonchalantly as he possibly can once as class is over. This tone does not work well his voice.

She gives him a curious look.

William hopes the look is because of what he said, not how he said it. Continuing with his attempt at casualty, he shrugs. "I got a car for Christmas."

"My mom's probably already on her way to pick me up. I have to go home and change first anyway."

"So you're going?" he asks tentatively.

"Sure, I've got nothing else to do." She doesn't meet his eyes. "What kind of car did you get?"

"A black one."

"Oh." Lizzy doesn't seem to be paying him any attention; she looks like she's thinking very hard about something. "Neat."

"I don't want you to have to walk to the park," he tries again.

Lizzy studies him carefully, and then gives him a hesitant smile. "Pick me up from my house?"

He nods once, and Lizzy's smile goes from hesitant to definite. His heart flutters uncontrollably.

* * *

Besides a slight widening of her eyes, Lizzy doesn't react to his car when he pulls up. She opens the passenger door before he can even decide whether or not he wants to get up and open her door for her.

"Hey, Darcy." She gives him a smile as she gets in and closes the door.

William gives her an acknowledging nod and waits for her to put her seatbelt on before he reverses out of her driveway. He surreptitiously glances at the map she drew him back in October. It sits on the console in between them, but he's covered it with some papers so that Lizzy won't know he's kept it or that he needs it. He's mastered driving for the most part, but he's never driven to Lizzy's house by himself before.

"Turn left up here," she says softly.

"I know," he mutters, feeling his face heat up slightly.

From the corner of his eye, he catches her smug smile before she turns her head towards the window.

Instead of being too upset, he finds himself smiling a little bit too, though he doesn't know why.

"How long have you been driving?" she asks, still not looking at him.

"About a year now."

"I meant in the States."

"Since I got my car."

Lizzy doesn't reply, so he asks, "Why?"

"It shows."

William gives a huff that might be a laugh. "I'm not that bad."

She laughs too. "No, you're not. You're just very careful."

"Not all of us are comfortable driving like maniacs."

Lizzy snorts. "Who drives like a maniac?"

"You."

"Well, you drive like a seventy year old."

He wonders if she is making a reference to when she called him a seventy-year-old when they first met, or if it's just an insult she regularly reverts to. His head hurts from analyzing her every word. "I do not."

"You do, and you missed the turn just now."

He eases his foot on the brake and squints to try to see the street sign up ahead.

"We are now going ten miles an hour in a thirty-five mile area," Lizzy laughs.

"Did I really miss a turn?" He tries to look at the map without Lizzy noticing, but it's half covered by some papers he put on top of it to keep her from knowing he still had it in his possession.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"You said you knew the way."

He frowns. "You're getting too much enjoyment out of this."

"Probably."

William turns his head to look at her, and finds Lizzy smiling at him, her eyes bright. His lips tug into a smile of their own. "So how do I get to the park?"

"Why don't you look at the map I drew you?" Her voice sounds different. It still has the edge of teasing on it, but it's friendlier, flirty, almost. He likes it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, but he's smiling with his teeth now. He knows she sees through him.

Predictably, she laughs. "Oh, so you don't have the map I drew you hidden under that pile of Calculus homework?"

"No."

She ruffles through his things, then picks up the map. "What's this then?"

"Calculus homework."

"Oh, I see."

"You're not in the class. I'd understand if you didn't know what Calculus looks like when you see it."

William glances at her, and she is still smiling. He's glad for that, because he's had enough of her scowls and frowns.

"Are you calling me dumb, Darcy?"

"Of course not."

"Good, because if anyone's dumb, it's the guy driving in the opposite direction of our destination."

* * *

Eventually, they reach the park, but it's drizzling, so they end up sitting in his car, watching water fall from the sky. It's mostly Lizzy watching the water, while he watches her. Her left hand sits on the console of his car, on top of papers, and dangerously close to his right hand. His eyes dart between the content look on her face and the stillness of her left hand.

"What did your dad say when you told him that you weren't coming in?" She doesn't look at him when she asks this, and he longs to see her eyes.

"He didn't say anything, I left a message with his secretary." William's right hand inches a fraction of a centimeter closer to her left one, though he's sure he his mind did _not_ tell his hand to do so.

"What _will_ he say?" she amends.

William shrugs, wondering the same thing himself.

She finally turns to him when she doesn't hear a response. "Will he get mad?"

The color of her eyes is the exact same color of the sky today, and it takes his breath away for a moment. He's seen her eyes a million times before, but against the backdrop of the dark gray sky, he feels like he's seeing them for the first time. William finds for his voice, "There's not much for me to do right now. I spend most of my time there doing homework and reading books my father gives me."

"Why can't you do that at home?"

"I can, I suppose." William isn't really sure what he had imagined their time would be like together, but this right here, sitting in his car answering her questions, it makes him feel something akin to disappointment. That confuses him because he's not sure you can be disappointed when you had almost no expectations.

"Is that all you'll ever do there? Weren't you observing departments or something like that for a while?"

He's surprised she remembers. That was months ago. "Yes, but I finished that. I'm supposed to be working towards setting up an internship program. HR screens resumes and then gives them to me. I choose which ones get interviews. We're in the interviewing process, but they usually do it while I'm at school, so I don't see those often."

"How many interns are you hiring?"

"We're a full service agency, so we're hiring anywhere from one to four for each department." He tears his eyes away from hers to look at their hands again.

"You choose all of them?"

"No. I choose which ones get interviews. Then they interview with HR, then if they pass that, they do an interview with someone from the department they want to be in. If they the department head likes them, they get the internship."

_Just do it_, his mind commands his hand.

"Have you hired any yet?"

His hand won't move, so he looks back up. "We have two in the media department, and I think they want one more. We also have three in account services and two in creative."

Lizzy nods. "What are you going to do once all the hiring is done?"

"I'm not sure. Whatever else my father thinks I should do."

"Are you enjoying it?"

William flexes his fingers and takes a deep breath. "It passes time, but I don't feel like I'm learning much about being a CEO."

"Will you just jump right into the CEO position after college?"

"That's the plan." Just as he's about to reach, she pulls her hand away to run through her hair. It's frizzier than normal today, probably because of the rain.

"Maybe you'll feel more prepared after college."

"Maybe." He frowns, not wanting to talk about this anymore. William pulls his hand away from the center console and puts it in his lap. "What have you been doing?"

"Same old, same old."

His mind wanders to Wickham, and he considers asking her if she's seen him. When he meets her eyes, he finds them friendly and open, and the question dies at his throat. He can suppress his curiosity in exchange for more of this easiness with her at the moment.

"Why were you dancing in the rain that day?" he asks softly instead.

Lizzy looks at him with a confused look, her eyebrows knit together, her lips pursed. "What day?"

"The first day."

The four lines appear on her forehead as she concentrates. Then she shrugs and replies, "I felt like it."

"Do you do that often?"

"Not as much as I'd like." Her hand is back on the center console, but he ignores it this time, choosing to only look at her face.

"You always seem to be caught in a rainstorm."

She smiles. "So it seems."

"I hate the rain," he says without thinking.

Lizzy doesn't look surprised. "Why?"

"It reminds me too much of London." It surprises him how little emotion he can hear in his own voice. He doesn't feel the familiar burn in his eyes, the tightness in his throat, the cold chill in his spine when he mentions his former home.

"Did you not like London?" Her question comes out nonchalantly, as if she didn't even give any thought to whether or not it would hurt him to think about it.

"I did, but I just remember every time I heard about America, especially California, it was supposed to be sunny all the time."

It's a nice feeling, he decides, to be able to talk like this with Lizzy. She knows more about him than anyone other than the people that live in his house, and she acknowledges that without making him feel broken.

"We're in the Bay Area, so-"

"I know," he cuts her off. "I just hate it."

"It's my favorite kind of weather."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"That's not an answer."

She sighs. It's not an exasperated sigh, more of a content one. Her face is perfectly serene and she closes her eyes and inhales deeply before letting out the breath in another long sigh. "Rain makes me feel…new."

"New?" Her answer surprises him. Half of him was expecting some cheesy speech about how she thinks the sky is crying over the horrors of the world with her. Or maybe that the rain is worth it because there's a rainbow when it's all over. He should know better by now not to expect the expected from Lizzy Bennet.

"New," she repeats, her eyes still closed. "The sky gets dark, the air feels more tangible, and everything gets washed away."

"Leaving mud, and humidity, and-"

Her soft laugh makes him stop. "You're such a pessimist, Darcy."

He wonders how she isn't one. "Nothing really gets washed away though. It just creates a mess. Rain interrupts our lives. Everyone drives poorly in the rain, and no one likes to do anything in the rain except maybe sleep. Even then, it's difficult because it's so noisy."

"It's a nice noise."

"That's debatable."

"So is everything in life." Lizzy opens her eyes and fixes him with a curious stare. "Rain is just my preference, Darcy."

"Why?" She knows so much about him, and he feels like if he can just reach this part of her, they'll be even.

"I've just always loved it."

He's disappointed in her answer. "Enough to dance in it."

"Yeah. What's wrong with that?"

"You're a bit too old to be-"

"Don't knock it till you've tried it."

He snorts.

"No, really. It's nice. Just pretend there's nothing else in the world, just you and the rain. It clears your mind and leaves you feeling new."

"How does it make you feel new?"

"I told you, it washes away everything. Like, the superficial things, like hairspray and make-up, so that you're left with just the face you were born with. Your clothes get soaked and cling to you, so you're more aware of all the weight you carry on you, so you focus more on that than the metaphorical weight you carry around with you."

"And you like this?" he asks incredulously.

"Yes," she chuckles softly. "I know it might seem strange to you, Mr. I Never Leave My House Without Looking Perfectly Perfect, but it's nice, because once it's all over, you go back inside, clean yourself up, dry your clothes, and go on living your life."

"So what's the point?"

"Maybe there isn't one." She shrugs. "But that's life, Darcy. It goes on. Maybe it rains on your perfect day, maybe you fail a test, maybe your boyfriend dumps you, and maybe your dad dies. It doesn't matter; life goes on. We don't have all the answers and we probably never will. When it rains, I remember that; that life goes on. So just dance in the rain and be happy."

"So the goal is to feel happy?"

"That's always the goal, Darcy."

He says nothing in reply because he can think of nothing to say. They sit in silence for a long time. Every now and then, he casts surreptitious glances at Lizzy. Her face remains calm. Her lips are curved up slightly, and her eyes are closed. She looks truly at peace.

William tries to relax, but his body is humming with anticipation. He's not sure what it is he's anticipating, but he can't help but feel on edge. He's always like this when he's with her. Lizzy has this ability to make him feel polar opposites. Half of him is more at ease with her than anyone else, and the other half of him is always on the defense, tense as he tries to figure out what her next move will be.

"Why did you change Physics classes?" he asks suddenly.

"Sorry?" Her eyes open, and she looks at him with another confused look.

"At the beginning of the year," William begins. "You weren't in my Physics class, but then-"

"I wasn't aware it was _your _Physics class," Lizzy chuckles. "You thought I was stalking you, didn't you?"

He colors, because he remembers that he did think that.

"I switched math classes, so it messed up my Physics class, so that had to be moved around."

"Oh."

"I didn't know you had Physics during that hour."

"I see."

"We can pretend it was because I was stalking you, if you'd like."

"No, that's quite all right."

She laughs again, and he smiles at the sound of it.

* * *

When he drops her off at her house, he gets out and opens the door for her. She looks surprised, but pleased.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow," she mumbles once they reach her front door.

He nods, but he can't stop looking at her lips. Before he can convince himself not to, he lowers his face and kisses her. He misses slightly, catching half of her lips and half of her cheek.

"Goodbye, Lizzy." He rushes to his car, not sure if he wants to see the look in her eyes.

* * *

It's too wet outside to go to the park on Saturday, so he and Gee go get yogurt instead. Neither of them says it, but William knows they're both hoping a certain brunette will be there.

He parks the car a little bit crooked because he's still not used to driving American models with the driver seat on the right yet. William appreciates driving with Gee because she never utters a word about his driving, even when he gets lost or parks incorrectly.

Inside, Lizzy is sitting on the counter top talking to Charlotte. She quickly jumps off when she hears the bell ring, but then she catches his eye and relaxes a bit.

"Hi, Lizzy!"

"Gee! How are you?" Lizzy holds out her arms and Gee runs into them.

"Good. I've missed you!" Her voice is muffled because her face against Lizzy's blouse.

"I missed you too, Gee. Did you want some yogurt?"

"It's too cold for yogurt," Gee says, pulling away. "I just wanted to come see you."

Lizzy's eyes soften. "That's so sweet, Gee."

"Have you seen William's new car?" she asks.

"Yes," she meets his eyes. "He gave me a ride home the other day. It's a very nice car."

"He got it for Christmas. I got a lot of stuff for Christmas too! My shoes light up!" Gee keeps one arm around Lizzy's waist and sticks out one of her feet to show off her shoes.

Lizzy's eyes widen dramatically. "Wow. Those are really neat."

"I have them in four different colors," Gee grins.

"Oh, really?"

"Uh huh. My father didn't know what color to get me, so he got them all!" Lizzy's eyes dart to his, but she looks away too quickly for him to analyze her emotions.

"Well, you'll have to give me one of them."

Gee looks at Lizzy's feet, then laughs. "Your feet are too big!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" She looks thoughtful. "Maybe I can ask my father to buy you a pair."

"Lizzy's good with kids, huh?" Charlotte asks him, taking his attention away from Lizzy and Gee.

"Yes," William answers simply.

It's the first time he's really looked at Charlotte. She's got light brown hair and eyes. He can see a slight resemblance between her and Mr. Lucas, but he other than that, he finds her completely unremarkable. She requires no further inspection.

"So did you want yogurt? Or were you just taking your sister to see Lizzy?" Charlotte has some sample cups in her hand.

"The latter," William replies, though he knows it's a lie because it's not just Gee that had wanted to see Lizzy.

"How does your sister know Lizzy?"

He knows Charlotte is trying to be polite with the small talk, but it's distracting him from watching Lizzy and Gee interact, and he wishes there was a way to nicely tell her he doesn't want to talk. William sighs. "They met at the park."

She nods, and after a few seconds of silence while they both watch Gee and Lizzy, she asks, "So you have my dad for Creative Writing right?"

"Yes."

"How do you like it?"

"Fine."

He can tell she's growing frustrated by his answers, but he really has nothing he can really say to her.

"William?" Gee calls.

He turns his head back to his sister. "Yes, Gee?"

"Lizzy's leaving."

William looks from Gee's disappointed eyes to Lizzy's unreadable ones. She gives a nod of confirmation and points at something behind him. "My mom's outside."

"Oh, right." He feels his face flush, and he doesn't know why.

"Sorry, you caught me just as my shift was over." Her eyes look genuinely apologetic.

"Hey, feel free to take my shift," Charlotte jokes.

Lizzy gives her a smile and shakes her head. "I'd rather not."

The older brunette laughs. "You sure?"

"Very," Lizzy gives her a hug. "You need anything before I go?"

"No, go home. This is just supposed to be a part-time job for you."

"I know, but I feel bad leaving you by yourself before Jessica gets here."

Charlotte pushes Lizzy away. "I'll be fine. No one wants yogurt right now. Go enjoy your evening."

"Thanks, Char. Have a good night." Lizzy says as she opens the door.

Gee waves bye to Charlotte before taking his hand as they follow Lizzy out. Without thinking, he walks all the way to her car and opens her car door for her. She gives him a surprised look but mumbles a thank you to him.

"You're welcome."

"Bye, Lizzy!" Gee says, waving.

Lizzy smiles. "Bye, Gee. I'll see you soon, okay?"

Gee nods.

To him, she bites her lip briefly before putting her hand on his shoulder and leaning in. Her breath tickles his ear and electrifies his nerves. She tells him quietly, "You don't have to use your sister as an excuse to see me, you know."

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you all for your amazing responses to the last chapter. You have no idea how much it means to me. Also thanks to my betas (Lynnie, Erika, and Colleen). This chapter has gone through major edits even after they all looked at it, so if there are any mistakes, they're definitely all mine. It's very late, but I wanted to get this out to you all as soon as I could. I don't really have much to say besides that I love you all and I'd love to hear your opinions, so don't forget to leave a review, please. :)


	20. On, and on, and on

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Twenty: On, and on, and on**

This isn't the end

We're just getting started

The road stretches on and on and on

We're moving again

Sun on our skin

And cracks in the pavement

We'll aim for a place we've never been

- _You in the End_; Matt Hires

* * *

"Hello?"

William freezes. Her voice sounds slightly different on the phone. He's not sure how or why, it just does. Maybe because he's used to it being much closer to his ear. Lizzy is always close when she is talking to him. Her voice only has to travel a short distance from her lips to his ears. Here, the path is long and winding and carried by wires and technology.

"Hello?" she says again, a little louder this time.

"Hi." His voice is hoarse. It makes him wince.

"Darcy?" She sounds surprised.

He realizes that he has never been forced to gauge her mood without the help of her eyes. He has grown dependent on them.

After clearing his throat, he speaks again. "Yes. It's me."

There is silence, and William finds himself wondering if she's smiling because she had known this would happen eventually, if there is a crease between her brows because she's confused, or if she is biting her lip because she's nervous. He wonders what shade of blue her eyes are right now.

"I left my planner at work." He cringes at the lie. It was all he could think of to say. "I was hoping you could tell me the assignment for Creative Writing." The fingers not wrapped around the phone twitch with anticipation.

The silence from her end drags on, and William has to pull the phone away from his ear to look at the screen to make sure they're still connected.

"We just turned in that two-page paper about someone we admire, so we don't have anything due tomorrow." She speaks slowly, like perhaps she is confused or thinks he's confused.

"Yes. That's right," he replies. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem."

"I apologize for interrupting your night." He says this more to keep the silence at bay than anything else.

"No worries."

In that moment, he longs to be anyone but himself. His words sound so formal and stiff against her casual ones. He can hear the American accent in her words, the long vowels and the hard Rs she pronounces, probably without thought. He hears her careless yeahs with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He can't explain why, but he feels farther away from her than ever.

She's probably waiting for something from him, but he doesn't know what. "Were you working on your art?"

"No." She sighs. Or perhaps she's blowing the fringe out of her eyes. He hates that he can't tell. "College admission essays, actually."

"Oh." He's had those done months ago, but he doubts she wants to hear that.

"Are you going to go to college in England?"

"The States, most likely." He can't keep the resentment out of his voice.

There is a pause, and then, "You don't sound too happy about that."

"Well, there are plenty of upstanding colleges here in the States." Those are his father's words, and not his own. He grows even annoyed with himself.

"Oh," she says softly. William hears some shuffling in the background and wonders if she's as tuned into his background noises as he is to hers. He's alone in his room, and he can't imagine what noises she'd hear other than his pacing. "Have you taken your SATs yet?"

"Yes. Have you?"

"Yeah, but I haven't gotten my scores yet. I don't think I did too well on the math part."

"You're waiting for them? Can't you pay to get them sent to you quicker?" He remembers his father paying to get them early so that in the event that his scores weren't high enough, he could take them again. That was weeks ago, and his father hasn't said anything, so William assumes his scores sufficed.

Lizzy, however, does not share his father's view. She gives a huff. "Yeah, but why would I? My scores will be the same whether I get them now or in three weeks."

"You're right," he concedes sheepishly, and he doesn't elaborate.

"How's work?"

"Fine," William says automatically out of habit.

"Really?" She sounds skeptical.

He falls back onto his bed and stares at the ceiling. "It's better."

When Lizzy doesn't say anything, he continues. "I feel like I'm doing more than nothing now, so that's a plus, I suppose."

He's met with more silence, and his nerves start to get the better of him.

"What are you doing?"

"Right now?"

She laughs. "No. At work. What are you doing at work now?"

"Oh." He feels his cheeks heat up, and for the first time since their conversation started, he's glad she's not there to see it. "My father is having me shadow him now, on days he doesn't have advertising pitches and whatnot. So I'll get a better understanding of what he does on an average day."

"I see. Well, maybe once you learn more about what he does, you'll like it."

It's a long shot, but he doesn't say so. "Maybe."

There's a loud noise in the background, and someone is yelling. Lizzy sighs. "Hey, Darcy. I have to go."

"Oh, yes. Of course. I do too, actually," he blurts. His face heats up again. William catches a glance at his reflection and sees a nervous, red-faced boy, not the man that he needs to be, and he looks away quickly, embarrassed. "I should finish up my work."

He's not sure if Lizzy even heard his pathetic excuse with all the noise on her end. She just says, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Lizzy."

* * *

"Will you be having lunch in the art room again today?" he asks when she takes her seat in front of him in Creative Writing.

The lines form on her forehead. "I'm not sure. Why?"

"I was just wondering."

"Oh." The lines deepen, and her bottom lip juts out ever so slightly.

* * *

"Did you know people go off campus for lunch sometimes?"

Lizzy gives him a tired, sidelong glance from her seat in Government. "Yeah. Did you not know that before?"

William doesn't understand why she's not happy. Lizzy is usually in her best mood after her art class. Perhaps she can sense how unhappy he is with her for not having lunch with him even though he made it perfectly clear that he wanted them to have lunch together.

"No, I didn't. Caroline invited me today." He doesn't bother to hide the slight accusation in his voice. She wasn't at lunch today.

She rolls her eyes and mutters, "Of course she did."

"Where were you?"

"When?"

William barely suppresses an annoyed groan. "At lunch."

"Oh." Lizzy breaks eye contact and begins rummaging through her backpack. "In the art room."

He feels his fingers clench tightly. "So when I asked you earlier-"

"I didn't know I'd be there." She shrugs, as if it were no big deal.

"You could have told me."

She turns and fixes him with an unreadable look on her face. "How?"

It takes him a minute to regain his footing, but he replies, "You could have gone to the lunch room to tell me."

Her eyes roll again. "And you could have gone to the art room to look for me, instead of going off campus for lunch with Caroline and throwing it in my face afterwards."

"I didn't go to lunch with her."

Her expression suddenly changes into one of surprise. Then she shakes her head, the tired, annoyed look comes back. "Whatever."

Their conversation ends there because class starts, but William is so frustrated that he can't concentrate at all.

"Do you want me to take you home?" William asks as they walk out of the classroom.

Her eyebrows knit together. "Why would you do that? My mom is picking me up like she usually does."

William berates himself for even offering.

* * *

"Do you have to work today?" Lizzy asks him as soon as he walks into Creative Writing the next day.

He raises an eyebrow at the turn of events. William is surprised to find that she is the only one in the classroom right now. Usually it's just him and Mr. Lucas for the first ten minutes of the day before the bell rings. William always arrives at school early, and while other students prefer to spend as much time with their friends as possible in the courtyard or cafeteria before classes started, he enjoys the silence that the almost empty classroom provides.

"Where is Mr. Lucas?"

"He stepped out to take a phone call. I think it was Maria calling about some drama or something."

"Who is Maria?" He takes his seat behind her and watches as she rotates around to face him.

"His younger daughter." Lizzy waits for a split second before she asks, "So do you?"

"Do I what?"

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and blows air out of her mouth as if this is the most exerting task she's taken on. "Do you work today?"

"Yes, I do. Why do you ask?"

"I was going to see if you wanted to go to the park." Her rainstorm eyes are bright with a nervousness he recognizes from his reflection in the mirror nights earlier.

"I'd have to skip work."

"Would your dad care?"

William shrugs, watching her carefully.

Lizzy bites her lower lip and stares at him with uncertainty swimming in her eyes. "I don't want to get your dad mad at you."

"I doubt he'd notice." He can't help the clipped tone in his voice. Does she or does she not want him to go to the park with her today?

"But you said you're following him around now, right? Won't he notice if you're not there if you're supposed to actually be with him?"

He shrugs again.

"Well, it's up to you."

"Obviously," he replies.

There are teeth marks on her lower lip where she had been biting it just seconds ago. Before he knows what he's doing, he has leaned forward and his thumb is touching the lip that's jutting out in a full on pout as his other knuckles graze the skin of her chin.

He feels like electricity is coursing through him, starting with the nerves in his fingers and shooting to his heart, and it makes it difficult for him to breathe. He watches, mesmerized, as her eyes darken to a stormy gray.

"Why do you do that?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lizzy blinks. "Do what?"

"Bite your lip." His eyes travel down to her lips, which feel different underneath the pad of his thumb than when they were on his mouth.

The thought of her lips on his does strange things to his body. Later, after much careful consideration, he will recognize the feeling as desire, yet it will still be strange to him, not because he had never felt it before, but because he has never felt it for something he has already experienced before. For now though, he just stares at Lizzy's mouth, memorizing the shade of pink on her lips, its faint lines, and its soft texture under his fingers.

"Habit," she pulls away from him completely. She leans back, and Williams hears a soft thud as her back hits the edge of her desk.

Mr. Lucas walks in seconds later, followed by Caroline and two of her lackeys.

If their moment wasn't over before, it certainly is now. He and Lizzy sigh simultaneously. When she meets his eyes, he gives her his answer. "I'll go."

* * *

"Why don't you apply to college in England?" Lizzy asks. They're sitting on swings in the park. The chains on the swings are twisted so that he and Lizzy can face each other while they talk.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because it's obviously what you want to do."

"How did you know that?"

"It's _obvious_. Duh."

He rolls his eyes at her immature and insufficient answer.

She takes his silence as freedom to continue. "You're so mopey when you mention college in class and even when you were on the phone. You _have_ to stay in the States. Blah blah blah."

He wonders what to make of her bringing up their phone conversation. It's been over a week, and this is the first time she's mentioned it. He ignores it for now. "My father would never allow me."

"Good thing you've got money for application fees and can just do it without his consent, huh?"

"I couldn't."

Her eyes roll. "Sure you could."

"No, he would—"

"What? What could he _possibly _do if you applied with your own money?"

"What would be the point? Even if I got accepted, he would never let me go."

"You're 18 now, you're an adult, and you can do whatever you want," she insists.

This is something that frustrates him about Lizzy. Her life is limited to the crowded house she lives in and the school she and her mother probably believe to be the best there possibly is. Yet she somehow believes she knows everything about everything. She throws out simple solutions to complex problems as if such thoughts had never crossed his mind, as if he were too simpleminded to come up with the solution, when really, he didn't mention it because he knew it just was not a plausible solution.

William knows there is more to life than just figuring out what_ he_ wants. The idea that he "can do whatever he wants" is laughable. He can do whatever he wants as long as his father approves. The difference between the two are worlds away, yet she doesn't see that.

"How would you suggest I pay for school?" William challenges.

An incredulous look crosses her face. "Get a job? Apply for scholarships?"

He actually snorts at this. William is so well-trained, he opens his mouth to apologize before he remembers who he is with, and shakes his head instead. "What sort of scholarships do you think I would qualify for, Lizzy? My family has more money than you can even imagine. What grants would schools possibly believe me, a _Darcy_, to be deserving of?"

Lizzy recoils, and the look on her face turns into one he recognizes easily: disgust. She looks away, but not before he reads it so plainly on her face. Her feet come off the ground and the chains of the swing make a squeaky, metal noise as she allows the swing to untwist back into its original position.

"Fine. Don't apply then," she says quietly after a minute of silence, staring off into the distance. "Just stop bitching about it like there's not an alternative."

"There _isn't _an alternative."

Her mouth opens like she's going to say something, but then it closes for a few seconds before she asks, "You ready to go?"

He nods, rising off his swing and helping her off of hers, ignoring the disgust that still clouds her eyes.

* * *

They walk back to his house in silence, and William doesn't understand why. It's not like he insulted her this time. They were talking about _him_, and _he's_ the one who doesn't get what he wants. _She's_ the one who reminded _him_ that he wouldn't get what he wanted. It's him that should be upset with her, not the other way around.

"What is it?" he finally asks when they reach his house, because he knows it'll bother him for the rest of the evening if he doesn't ask her now.

"What?" She doesn't meet his eyes.

"Just say what you want to say."

Lizzy sighs. When her eyes finally meet his, they appear troubled. "I just think it's sad that you talk about how you have everything. You go on and on and on about it, but you never seem happy. And when I bring up a solution, you-"

"It's _not _a solution, you realize that, don't you?" He feels his temper flare.

"All you have to do-"

"You don't understand how this works. If I apply-"

"You have so many things you can do, Darcy! _So_ many things are available to you, but you don't-"

She continues her tirade and he watches her mouth, but he doesn't hear any of the words. His frustration and annoyance turn into something else.

"Darcy?" She demands when she's done with her tirade.

William blinks. He moves closer to her and kisses her open mouth.

Lizzy pushes him away with a sour look on her face that he can't help but smile at.

They stare at each other like this until she rolls her eyes and moves in to give him a tentative kiss in return.

* * *

"You're finished?" he asks, surprised.

She glances up from shuffling her papers around. "Just with Physics."

William feels his face color, as he looks down at his own Physics homework, not even three quarters done. He looks up at the clock and realizes almost an hour has past since they began their homework. It never takes him this long to complete a Physics assignment.

Lizzy smirks. "Need help?"

"No, thanks."

They're sitting on the floor of the room she shares with Jane. He's skipped work again today, though he doubts his father will notice. He didn't the last time. They're in the middle of pitching to some important client or other, and his father's mind has little room for anything else.

His own mind, it seems, has little room for anything other than the girl sitting in front of him. He watches as she frowns at the paper she's just pulled out of her dirty orange backpack.

"What?"

"I hate math."

"Need help?" he echoes her teasing words from earlier, which only makes her frown deepen.

"You shut up."

"It's strange that you're good at Physics, but you hate math."

"I hate them both, actually."

"How did you finish Physics so quickly then?"

Lizzy shrugs. "You were distracted."

William feels the heat return to his face, realizing that she saw him looking up at her a lot during the past hour. "No, I wasn't."

She gives him a knowing look. "Yeah, okay, Darcy."

He looks away. "Let's just take a break."

Lizzy gives another one of her huge, dramatic sighs. Honestly, you'd think life was so incredibly difficult for her, what with the way she changes her breathing so often. He tells her so.

She looks at him with narrowed eyes as she kicks a pillow away so she can scoot next to him. "It is. I have no money, and I suck at math and physics."

He bumps his shoulder to hers in a way that seems more awkward than playful, but William tells himself it can't be helped because _he_ is more awkward than playful, even when he tries not to be. "Don't forget you're halfway to being an orphan."

"Well, aren't you just a pot calling the kettle black," she replies. Lizzy touches her shoulder to his, but doesn't move it.

Perhaps it's the tenderness of her voice when she says it, or the vagueness of her joke, or the fact that he's aware he brought it up first, but William doesn't feel pain at her reference to his mother's death. All he feels is Lizzy's shoulder touching his, her proximity, her warmth.

Slowly, as if going any faster might break this spell, he slides his hand so that it's grasping hers.

William hears a soft sigh escape her lips, which he would have missed had she not just rested her head on his shoulder. It isn't one of her dramatic ones this time though. It's one he'd be so bold to describe as content.

As he sits there in Lizzy's room, her head on his shoulder and her hand clasped in his, he can't help but also give his own content sigh.

* * *

"I grew up with _Jane_, Darcy," Lizzy says. They're sitting in the grass in their spot by where the hummingbird nest used to be. This is possible now because the ground is dry enough, and William has purposely worn a pair of jeans he's not too fond.

He raises an eyebrow, unsure of where this is going. From everything he's learned about girls, this is dangerous territory though. "Yes. You two are sisters. I know."

"Yeah, and you _know_ who the prettier sister is."

William doesn't say anything in response, sure that whatever he says would be the wrong answer. If he says Lizzy, she'll call him a liar. If he says Jane, she'll say that he should be on her side. He refuses to fall for this trick.

"I know you know." Lizzy tosses some blades of grass away. "Even if you won't tell me."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I didn't, actually." Lizzy smiles. "Look, I know Jane's prettier than me, and I'm okay with that. Jane is my sister, and I love her. I know where I stand though. So I've never put a lot of…value on physical appearance."

William doesn't respond because he is too busy going over their conversation because he was sure she'd actually _asked_ him who the prettier sister was. She takes his silence as something else.

"Okay, fine. I used to try to compete with Jane."

He believes that. Lizzy wouldn't be Lizzy if she weren't a little competitive.

"I gave up though."

"You're smarter." It's out of his mouth before he thinks to stop himself.

Lizzy is quiet, digesting his words. "I think that's the first real compliment you've ever given me, Darcy." She doesn't look happy.

"Don't get used to it," he mutters, feeling his face heat up as he looks away.

A silence falls between them. He wonders how they got on this topic. Something to do with living under someone's shadow, he thinks. To be honest, he couldn't stop staring at that damn mouth of hers long enough to fully comprehend the words coming out of it.

"I don't think you should worry about how you compare to Jane," he advises her. It's the truth.

"Well, I know that I _shouldn't_. It's obviously not something I'm going to win at." Lizzy replies dejectedly. "It doesn't mean I can _help_ it though."

William thought his compliment would at least have cheered her up some, but Lizzy is looking as miserable as ever. "Just don't think about it."

She snorts. It's unladylike, but he's used to it from her so he doesn't say anything.

"It's not that simple, Darcy. Everyone knows Jane is beautiful. Even my own mother thinks Jane is the prettiest daughter and doesn't even bother to hide it from the rest of us, let alone anyone else willing to listen. I know that being pretty isn't all there is, but I just wish that at least _you_…" Lizzy trails off.

William turns back to her, waiting for her to continue.

She's giving a surly look at the grass.

"You wish I what?" he prompts.

Lizzy smiles at him, but there's a hurt look in her eyes. "Nevermind. You won't get it."

He doesn't disagree, so silence falls between them again.

"I just-" Lizzy tries again moments later. "I feel like you-"

It's not like her to cut herself off like this. He waits again.

"I never really cared about it after a certain age, but then that day you-" Her mouth twists and her nose scrunches up. She's not meeting his eyes, but he notices her fingers are twitching. Her knee is bouncing uncontrollably. Lizzy is very clearly ill at ease, and, for the life of him, William cannot fathom why.

She swallows audibly, and then blows the fringe off of her face. She looks sad and defeated, a look he can barely even recognize on her. William doesn't know what else to do other than to lean forward and plant a kiss on that silly pout of hers.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** You guys inspire me. Thank you all for being patient with me. Special thanks for my betas for their work. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think.


	21. Knows Me More Than I

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Twenty-One: Knows Me More Than I**

_Cause if I don't know then I don't know_

_But I may know someone who knows me better than I_

_And if I could somehow rest this soul_

_Maybe control can find its way back into my life_

Relient K; _Curl Up and Die_

* * *

One night, William lies awake at night thinking about Lizzy and finding it strange that it's something akin to _missing her_ that he feels. He sees her everyday at school, and they had lunch together once in the art room when it was empty, but their conversations are different at school than they are in the freedom of the park. He likes to feel her warmth on him, rather than just near him. He longs to be able to plant small kisses on her lips whenever he feels like it. Even more than that, he longs to have more kisses like the one they shared on New Year's Eve. William can't do things like that at school.

He quickly tries to think of something else before he's up all night wanting Lizzy.

William begins wondering what would happen if he attended university at Oxford like his mother wanted. He can't explain the persistent need to do this. It's just something he grew up hearing about from his mother, her desire for him to attend university experience where she did. It would be one last thing he could share with her.

It couldn't hurt to apply, William supposes.

Then after he got accepted, he could discuss it with his father.

He falls asleep thinking about the look Lizzy will have on her face when he tells her he has decided to apply.

* * *

The sheer amount of _life_ in San Francisco reminds him a lot of London. It's his first time simply walking around the city. He is really only doing it because he is bored in the office, and his father is too busy with some clients in a meeting to keep him inside.

It's a larger city than Sausalito, which is probably why his father decided to rent the building here, rather than across the bridge where their house is located. It's livelier, full of people, and each person looks completely different than the other, not just in facial features, but in attire and personality. He watches them interact with each other and wonders when he will feel like he is a part of this world rather than someone just observing.

He finds himself staring at a large building and realizes that it's the Museum of Modern Art.

* * *

He arrives back at the office with brochures weighing down his pockets, and his legs are tired.

No one says anything about his absence, and he is forced to question how much he really means to the company to which he is supposedly so important.

* * *

After Government on Tuesday, he walks to the office to request another copy of his transcripts for the Oxford application. It's his last task before the application is complete.

On his way out, he catches a glimpse of Lizzy walking in the opposite direction of where she normally goes to wait for her mother to pick her up.

She spots him too. "Darcy?"

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"My mom is held up at work, and she won't be able to come get me for another hour. I'm just going to go to the art room to do homework."

"Is the art room normally open after school?"

"Yeah. It's pretty crowded these days too because a lot of people are working on their portfolios. What are you doing? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I had to go get a transcript."

"Why?"

"One of my last university applications." He'll tell her eventually, just not in the hallway at school. "Do you want me to take you home?"

She looks surprised, but pleased. "Don't you have to go to work? You're already running late, aren't you?"

William shrugs. "So it won't matter if I'm a few minutes later."

"Well, if you don't mind, that'd be nice, I guess."

"Let's go."

"Okay."

"Do you work today?"

"No. Just tomorrow and Friday."

"What times do you usually work?"

"After school, I usually work from 5-10, so that gives me time to come home, change, and do some homework before I go to work. I usually only work after school two or three weekdays so that I have time to do homework and stuff."

"Do you always work on weekends then?"

"Pretty much."

"Does your mom take you to work then?"

"Not always. We have two cars. My mom drives one all the time, and Jane and I share one, but she takes that one to school and picks up our other sisters and takes them places with it. My mom picks me up from school, and when she's not working, I'll take her car to work. If she is working at the same time, she or Jane will drop me off."

"I see."

"Why the sudden interest in my life?"

"I was just curious."

"You're very talkative today," she observes.

"Am I?"

She nods. "I like it. Maybe I'll tell my mom to leave me at school more often."

William laughs. "Does she do this often?"

"It probably happens once a week. Sometimes Jane can pick me up. Other times I'll just hang out at school until they make me leave, and then walk over to that hole in the wall restaurant about a half mile down the road. I'll show it to you when we pass it."

"It happens that often?"

"Yeah. It's not like she can help it. She has to work, and I was the one that chose to go here."

"I didn't realize it was that often." He frowns as he thinks of all the times he's driven off and seen her sitting outside waiting. The words are out of his mouth as soon as they enter his brain. "I can take you home everyday, if you'd like."

She looks as surprised as he is with the offer. "What? No. Darcy, I wasn't telling you that so you'd -"

"I know," he cuts her off. "I offered because I wanted to." The idea of being able to spend a little bit more time with her after school everyday makes his stomach dance with anticipation. He can't admit that part though, even if it's just to himself.

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't like the idea of you walking half a mile-"

"It's not that far. It doesn't happen all the time anyway."

"Still. I'll take you home everyday."

She's quiet as she contemplates what he's just said. "You're sure you want to?"

"Yes."

"You can stop whenever you want. I don't want to make you-"

"You can't make me do anything." That's not entirely true, of course. She has such power over him; he can't stand it sometimes.

* * *

They drive in silence, mainly because William cannot think of a single thing to say to her that doesn't sound ridiculous.

_I'm applying to Oxford because of you._

_I feel strange when you're not around._

_I want to say things that make you laugh the way I see others are able to._

His throat closes, and his chest tightens every time his eyes slip from the road and onto her. She looks tired, and he wonders if she's been working too much. Where does her money go? How much does she even earn working at her job? It can't be very much.

He considers asking her, but they're at her house before he can even make up his mind.

* * *

"Damn it," Charles sighs. "I was hoping you'd be rusty so I'd have a chance at winning."

William laughs. He is at Charles's house playing video games Saturday afternoon because Lizzy is working. Despite the fact that he hasn't played video games in over two months, William is still better at it than Charles.

"Did you get a system for Christmas?"

"No." William actually hadn't thought to ask for one. All of his free time is spent with Gee or Lizzy, so it's not like he'd have any use for one. Though a gaming console would probably be a nice distraction on days he can't see Lizzy.

"Oh, that's right, your dad got you a car."

"Yes." He watches Charles lose his last life on the game with satisfaction. William enjoys winning.

"How do you like it?" Charles is damn near pouting at the television screen as their stats from the game appear.

"It's nice. I like not having to rely on my driver to take me places now."

"Yeah. Caroline's been asking Dad for a new one for when she goes to college."

"What's wrong with the one she already has?" It's the type of question Lizzy would ask, not him. He doesn't know why he even thought of it. Since when do people need something to be wrong with a car before they purchase a new one?

"She says she doesn't want to bring an old car to college." Charles shrugs. "Do you want to play another game?"

"Sure."

Charles starts to push buttons to change some settings for their next match. "What'd your mom get you for Christmas?"

Without thinking William replies, "My mother is dead, Charles."

He doesn't have time to think about why or how or even what just happens because Charles begins to chuckle. "Shut up, William. We haven't even started the game yet. You can't distract me this time."

William frowns. The idea that someone would say something like that to win a petty video game match is absolutely absurd to him, and he tells Charles so.

Charles's jaw drops open, and his face turns a deep shade of red. "Shit, William. I'm so sorry. I assumed your parents were divorced because-"

"Don't worry about it." He stares blankly at the screen. It's still on the settings menu because Charles is frozen in shock.

"I-" He finally looks at William, his eyes full of remorse and his face still very red with embarrassment.

"Not very many people know though. So be discrete." William sighs, not even knowing why he said it in the first place.

"Of course." There is a minute of silence between the two of them. Then, "I'm sorry. I really didn't know."

"I know."

* * *

He and Lizzy don't exchange many words at school, and William doesn't know whether it's a coincidence or if it's because they know they'll have more private time in his car later. All he knows is that the anticipation of his brief but uninterrupted, private time with Lizzy makes his day drag even longer than usual.

As soon as she gets in his car, he tells her the story of how he told Charles about his mother.

He expects her to be proud of him because he's obviously made progress. There are only a handful of people on this continent that know about his mother's death, and he's just added to the number. Of course, Lizzy never reacts the way he thinks she will.

"Why did you do that to Charlie?" she asks.

William takes his eyes off of the road for a moment to spare a glance at her. "What do you mean?"

She's frowning, her lips pursed and the four lines set prominently in her forehead. "He didn't _know _your mom had died. He thought he was making a joke about how you were trying to distract him. I bet he feels horrible now."

"He did. He apologized to me, and I told him it was fine," he shrugs.

"Darcy. Why would you even say that though?" Her voice is a mixture of emotions, and he can't identify them all. He can, however, tell she's definitely not happy with him.

"He asked what my mother given me for Christmas. I told him that she was dead. What would you have said?"

Lizzy ignores his question. "Charlie probably is going over this conversation in his head a million times, trying to figure out what he could have done differently. You should apologize to him."

It annoys him that she is more concerned about Charles's feelings than his. He turns his eyes back to the road. Her street is coming up. "Why?"

"Because you made him feel bad!"

William rolls his eyes as he makes the turn. "I told him something about myself, and it made him feel bad, so I should apologize? Does that mean you should apologize to the class for your essay about loss? Because I'm quite sure that made everyone in class feel bad."

"What? Are you serious? You're comparing two completely different things!" She pulls her backpack into her lap and unbuckles her seatbelt despite the fact that her house isn't even in sight yet.

"No, I'm not. You said so yourself that bad things happen to people and you should just move on. How am I supposed to move on if I have to apologize every time I tell someone my mother is dead?"

"Well obviously you wouldn't have to apologize every time you told people your mother-"

"Yes, I would." He cuts off her words just as he pulls into her driveway and puts the car in park. For the first time since their conversation in the art room, he's anxious to be rid of her. "They feel bad every time. Don't pretend you don't see it, Lizzy. I saw it at my mot her's funeral, I saw it every time my father said something about it to a colleague, I saw it in your eyes the day I told you, and I saw it all over Charles's face today. Everyone feels pity."

Her eyes are fierce under the dim light of the porch. "No, Darcy, they feel _sympathy_. You just mad e Charles feel bad because of the timing. You made him feel like he offended you and hurt you by his reaction."

"He _did_ offend me. Who would actually lie and say their mother died just to win a game? That's stupid and-"

"Nobody! It was a _joke_, Darcy." She opens the car door and begins to step out.

William does nothing but watch her as he replies, "It wasn't funny."

"Well, you're not funny _or_ nice, but Charlie and I still put up with you." She's completely out of the car now, her right hand on the door, ready to close it.

Her comment stings, but he doesn't tell her that. Instead he says, "If that's really what you think, then that's just stupid on _your_ part."

"_Clearly._" She slams the door and walks away without even saying goodbye.

* * *

Lizzy's mouth is hot and demanding against his. Her lips are still as soft as he remembers from that night in the bathroom, but this time he tastes no alcohol on her tongue this time, only something that is purely _Lizzy_. It intoxicates him, makes him feel like he's going mad.

Her hands are clutching onto the fabric of his shirt while his are desperate to feel her skin under his fingers. One hand cups her cheek as the other one journeys to the small of her back. Slowly, he wraps that arm around her and pulls her body flush against his. Their tongues ravage each other's mouths, and William begins to feel light headed from his lack of breathing.

He pulls away just enough to take a deep breath before he nips her lower lip and tries to carry on kissing her.

Lizzy suddenly flattens out her hands on his chest and turns her head just as he's about to put his mouth on hers again, so that his lips end up meeting her cheek bone. She turns back to him with a stern look on her face.

"You should still apologize to Charlie." There is a cute wrinkle between her eyebrows, and the hand that is cupping her cheek moves so that he can trace his thumb over it.

"I know," he replies, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It's been a day, and she's still not overit. Why do girls always take so long to get over stupid things like that?

Lizzy didn't talk to him all day at school, and the only reason he's even having any interaction with her now is because he drove her home again. Here they stand in broad daylight, kissing against his car in her driveway. He can't say for sure how it happened, but when he got out to open her door, he just couldn't stand the idea of letting her walk away without some sort of physical contact with her.

"Do you?" she pouts.

"Yes." He cuts off anything else she has to say by kissing her again, this time much more frantically than before. It's her turn to take a deep breath, and when she does this, he plants an open mouth kiss on her neck. A small moan escapes her perfect little mouth, so he does it again.

There's a part of him that knows this isn't healthy, that he should probably talk about things, rather than just sweep them away with kisses. However, that part of him is miniscule compared to the rest of him, which is honestly just very, very happy right now.

* * *

He glances at the clock on the wall of the yogurt shop. He's been sitting here for about five minutes, waiting for Lizzy to finish clocking out so he can take her home. Her mother is still at work, so she asked him to pick her up. It feels nice, especially after the way they parted earlier today. This is the closest thing to an official relationship that William has ever experienced. That, he can admit to himself privately. Any further thoughts, like sharing that information with Lizzy, leave him on unsecure grounds, a place he hates, but where he seems to always be when he is around her.

"Hey. Thanks for waiting," she says when she walks up to his table.

He shrugs and gets up to walk out the door with her.

"How was your day?" Lizzy asks. It seems she's done being mad at him about Charles. Maybe she's okay with sweeping feelings away with kisses too then.

She reaches for the door just as he grabs it, and looks surprised when he holds it open for her.

"Fine," he replies as he puts his free hand on the small of her back and follows her out.

When they reach his car, William opens her door for her again and shuts it before getting in himself and starting the car.

"Have you apologized to Charlie yet?"

He takes a deep breath, annoyed. "Not yet."

Lizzy stiffens. "Do you plan to do it before we graduate at least?"

"I'll think about it," he rolls his eyes.

"Darcy."

"I'll do it. Stop nagging."

This makes her pout. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are." He forces himself to drag his eyes away from her mouth.

"Well, if you would just do it, I wouldn't have to nag."

"Why does it matter so much to you?"

"Because you did something wrong, and you should apologize."

"If you go by that logic, there-"

"And Charlie is one of your only friends, so I don't think you can afford to lose him."

His first instinct is to say that he can afford anything, because, well, honestly, he can at this point. Instead, he keeps his mouth shut.

This results in them driving in silence for the majority of the car ride again.

When he pulls into her driveway, he can't help but think of the fight they had last night and the kiss they shared this afternoon. He stares at her, allowing his eyes to slowly take in the truly lovely details of her face, wishing he knew what to say to her to get her to stop talking about Charles.

She glares at him. "What?"

"What?" he asks, confused.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Her scowl deepens with distrust and suspicion as she quickly runs a hand through her hair.

This only serves to confuse him further. "Like how?"

She shrugs and looks away. "I don't know, like I have something on my face."

"I apologize." He watches as she checks her reflection in his side mirror. "You don't."

The scowl remains in place, and her lower lip juts out. Lizzy is making random swipes at her face, despite the fact that he just told her there was nothing on her face, and she even checked the reflection herself. She doesn't appear to be getting out of the car though, so that's a nice improvement from last night.

He takes a deep breath and dives in. "Have you ever been to the Museum of Modern Art?"

Her eyes are flooded with surprise when they meet his again. "MOMA? I think I went there for a field trip when I was in fifth grade or something. Why?"

"I walked by it a few days ago."

"When?"

"When I was at work. I stepped out for a minute."

Lizzy shifts her body so that she's facing him. Her left leg bends and rests more on the seat and her back is against the door. "You work near MOMA?"

"Not that close. About a half hour away." He tries to mirror her actions, but his legs are longer than hers, so he can't. It's mostly just his upper body turned toward her.

"By car?"

"No. By foot."

"_You_ walked thirty minutes to go to an art museum?"

"I didn't _go_ there. I just walked by it, and why do you sound so surprised?"

"Because I _am_." She laughs, the first he's heard from her all day. "Don't you have a driver? And a car?"

He can't tell if her mirth is at his expense. "I just needed to step out of work. Get away from the office."

"You said you stepped out for a _minute_." Lizzy holds up her index finger for emphasis. "And what did you need to get away from the office for anyway?"

He reaches up with the intention of slapping her finger away, but instead finds himself grasping it with all of his. His heart beats rapidly as her eyes dart to their awkwardly joined hands resting in between their bodies.

"I just don't like being in there all afternoon. It's boring," he says this mainly so that she will look at him instead.

"Darcy, your whole life is boring." She laughs again, as if her joke was so clever. Lizzy starts maneuvering her fingers in his hand, but he doesn't loosen his grip. "Except for the parts where you get to hang out with me."

Of course she'd say that, and now she's back to looking at their hands again. "Don't kid yourself. You got it right the first time. My whole life is boring. You're part of my life now. You're no exception."

Lizzy's eyes are wide gray saucers when they're back to looking at him. "Am I?"

"Are you what?" His fingers slacken as he drowns himself in her eyes for what feels like the millionth time.

"Part of your life." Her finger wiggles, and he's about to just give up and let go, but then he realizes that she's weaving her fingers into the space between his.

He stares at their hands again, and doesn't realize he's not breathing until she says his name moments later. "Darcy?"

William looks up at her. "Lizzy, I picked you up from work, drove you home, and we've been sitting in my car for god knows how long talking about an art museum."

He doesn't realize the weight of his words until he sees the way her eyes shine. In his mind, he was simply stating the obvious, but she's smiling at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter with hope. William can't help but smile back at her.

"What are we even talking about the museum for anyway?" Lizzy asks.

"I wanted to go."

"Why?"

"Because the only art I've seen is yours."

"There is art everywhere, Darcy."

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, but I'd like to see the art in the Museum of Modern Art."

"Then go," she shrugs.

"They're open late on Thursdays. We could go next Thursday."

"Oh, _we_ are going now?"

William squeezes her fingers. When she returns the gesture, chills run down his spine and his stomach does the now familiar flip.

"You knew it was we this whole time."

She grins, "Yes, because I'm part of your life now."

"My very boring life." His grin matches hers.

* * *

He tries to work on his applications for Oxford. It's a pretty easy task since he's already written several essays for college applications that he can reuse. However, every time he hears footsteps near his door, he jumps, thinking it's his father.

It's a silly thing to be afraid of, he knows, because he will eventually have to tell his father once he gets accepted. He wonders if this is worth it. Perhaps he should just do as his father wishes and just go to school in America. It would be the path of least resistance, and that is a path William honestly prefers.

His mind then, of course, goes to a certain girl with rainstorm colored eyes.

_You have so many things you can do, Darcy. So many things are available to you._

The way she said those words and the way her eyes shone so brightly with conviction when she said them…Lizzy has the ability to make him feel like he is worth more than his name.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Two updates in less than a month, that's good, right? I'm working on faster updates, I swear. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Many, many, many thanks to my betas Lynnie, Colleen, and Erika. Any mistakes left are mine. We're getting to the fun parts soon! Less teen awkwardness, more teen romance. Figured I'd let you guys get your fill of it before the dreaded Hunsford. ;)

Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter or the story as a whole. Your words always mean so much to me. :)


	22. Love is to be Made

**When It Rains by everymonday**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Love is to be Made**

_This one's for the faithless, the ones that are surprised_

_They are only where they are now regardless of their fight_

_This one's for believing, if only for its sake_

_Come on friends, get up now, love is to be made_

Greg Laswell; _It Comes and Goes (In Waves)_

* * *

Charles is surprised when he opens his front door to find William on the other side.

"Hello, Charles. How are you?"

"Good. What are you doing here?"

William shrugs. "I was going to see if you'd like to play video games or something."

Charles already wide eyes get even larger. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Sure. I'm-I'm actually glad you came by. I know we haven't really spoken since—well, I—I really wanted to apologize again because I truly didn't know-"

"It's quite alright, Charles."

"No, I shouldn't have-"

"Water under the bridge."

"Are you sure? I really feel awful-"

"I'm sure. Let's just forget about it."

Charles nods gratefully. "Okay, come on in."

They play for quite a while without really speaking except for some curse words now and then when they die. It's quite easy with Charles. The boy is so easygoing and agreeable, that William doesn't really have to do much work. He doesn't feel angry or annoyed with Charles anymore. Best of all, William didn't even have to apologize like Lizzy had insisted.

William realizes he's actually enjoying himself and is glad he knocked on Charles's door in the first place. It is shaping up to be a nice, relaxing Saturday.

Instead of starting a new game after they complete their fourth match, Charles lets the game stall. He breaks the silence with a topic William really should have seen coming.

"Jane says she doesn't need anything for Valentine's Day, but do you think I should do something for her anyway?"

He thinks back to the few Valentine's days he's spent with girls and how upset they usually got when he offered them no gifts of monetary value, despite the fact that they told him they needed nothing. "In my experience, girls usually want you to give them something, no matter what they say."

Charles looks thoughtful. "So you think I should get her something?"

"You two are officially together now, right?"

"Yes," he replies quickly, though there is uncertainty in his voice.

"Then, yes."

"Like what? What do girls like?"

"Probably flowers and candy. Maybe jewelry."

Charles shakes his head. "Jane never wears any jewelry."

_Probably because she doesn't have any_, William thinks. He doubts the Bennet family has much money for things like that, what with a single mother and five girls.

"Do you think she'd like some?"

"I don't know. I'd have no idea what kind to get her anyway."

William shrugs. "Maybe just flowers and candy then."

"That seems cheesy."

"It probably is, but you don't know what else she likes."

"She says she likes just spending time with me."

William fights the urge to roll his eyes. "Well, then spend the day with her, but you should definitely get her something in case she's expecting more since it is Valentine's Day."

"Yes. Good idea. Thanks, William."

* * *

As Charles pushes some buttons on his controller to begin their fifth match, it occurs to William that Caroline is right. For whatever reason, Charles does trust his opinion.

His talk with Charles forces William to consider his own plans for Valentine's Day. Is Lizzy expecting him to do anything? More importantly, _should_ she be expecting anything of him?

The advice he had given to Charles was based on the fact that Charles and Jane are officially dating. He and Lizzy are not. William isn't even sure how to go about bringing that topic up.

* * *

William spends lunch outside of the cafeteria with Charles on Monday, listening to him talk about all of his grand plans for Jane. It's raining, so they stand side by side with their backs against the wall, eating sandwiches they purchased from the lunch line earlier. He doesn't know why Charles didn't want to eat with his friends inside, but doesn't really press it. It's not like William enjoys spending time with the others anyway.

"What do you think I should do for Jane for Valentine's Day?"

He wonders if Charles dislikes talking about Jane in front of his other friends and why _he_ seems to be the exception to this. He wouldn't mind it so much if it weren't for the fact that this had been the exact same topic of discussion a few days ago. William doubts they'd have anything to talk about if they didn't have this though.

"She's obviously not my first girlfriend, but she's the first one I've felt this strongly about, so I definitely want to make this good," Charles continues when William says nothing. "I don't want her to be disappointed."

William nods, their previous conversation about this topic still fresh in his memory. "So what were you thinking?"

"You think taking her to dinner and bringing her flowers and chocolates will be good enough?"

"I think that should suffice, especially since you say she's not expecting anything to begin with."

"It's just that I've seen the stuff boys give to Caroline, and it's a lot. She's still usually disappointed or angry though."

William frowns. "Jane and Caroline are two very different girls."

"You're right," Charles is very quick to concede.

"Don't overthink it." In his mind, he sees Lizzy's teasing smile telling him to follow his own advice, but he ignores her.

"Are you getting Lizzy anything?"

William frowns. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I thought you and Lizzy were-"

"We're not the same as you and Jane."

"I know, but-"

"How do you even know about me and Lizzy?" He fights to keep the shock out of his voice. No one was supposed to know about him and Lizzy.

"Jane told me."

"Oh." He tries to decide how he feels about that. Of course Lizzy would tell her sister. He shouldn't have really expected anything less. It's just that Jane knowing and Charles knowing makes this all the more real. He had liked it when it had just been the two of them.

"I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to," Charles says.

William stays silent for a while, before replying in a resigned voice. "I would appreciate your discretion."

A slow smile spreads across Charles's face. "Oh man, imagine if Caroline found out though. She'd have a fit."

"Agreed. I really don't want to deal with her." He realizes his mistake. It's impolite to talk about Charles's sister like that to him. William quickly apologizes, but Charles waves him off.

"I would think you were crazy if you _did _want to deal with Caroline."

* * *

"I talked to Charles."

"I know, he told me."

"When?"

"He was over at our house on Sunday."

"Oh."

"He missed you. It's cute."

"What?"

"Oh come on, Darcy. You're, like, his best friend."

"I was not aware of this." He's never been anyone's best friend before.

She laughs. "I know. I bet you've never had a best friend."

William has become accustomed to Lizzy being able to articulate almost exactly what he is thinking. He doesn't bother to respond; he's more focused on the pretty smile on her face right now. She looks nice today, he decides. Her hair is in a ponytail, exposing some dangly, plastic earrings he's never seen her wear. He thinks she might also be wearing some make up on her eyes because her lashes look longer than usual.

"Are we gonna go?" she asks.

He blinks, realizing that he turned the car on, but hasn't made a move to drive out of the parking lot yet.

"Yes," he shifts the car into drive.

"How was your day?"

"It was fine. I had lunch with Charles today."

"See? Best friends."

"The very best," he tells her sarcastically.

"No, but seriously, Darcy. I think he can't really talk to you about things when there are other guys around. The guys he hangs out with are okay, but you're more mature, and you don't tease him about Jane."

That confirms what he had thought earlier. William debates bringing up the other topic that has been on his mind: the fact that Charles and Jane know about them.

He and Lizzy barely talk while at school, but he knows people have seen them walk to his car this past week. He hadn't really considered the consequences of being so public about driving her home, only the benefits of having more time with her.

It's not as if William needs to impress any of the people at their school, and it's not as if they have a way to tell his father. He really has nothing to worry about when it comes to that.

One quick glance at Lizzy's content smile and her relaxed posture in the passenger seat ends his inner turmoil. Bringing it up will only make her upset, and as long as this doesn't get back to his father, it doesn't really matter.

* * *

Mr. Lucas isn't at school for the next three days, and Lizzy is on her best behavior for the substitute. She doesn't make jabs at Caroline, even when Caroline makes snide remarks about Lizzy's hair on the third day.

When Mr. Lucas finally does come back on Thursday, Lizzy still sits straight in her seat and ignores Caroline's comments. She answers his questions when no one else will participate in the discussions. When class is dismissed, she stays in her seat, staring at the teacher, her eyes full of sympathy and uncertainty.

William considers staying and asking her what is the matter, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Caroline watching them both, so he gathers his belongings quickly and leaves.

* * *

Lizzy isn't in the cafeteria at lunch, and when he goes to the art room to look for her, she isn't there either.

He can't think of anywhere else she'd be, so he has to spend all of lunch with endless, irrational thoughts plaguing his mind.

* * *

She's across the room in Physics, but it might as well be miles away.

* * *

"Are you alright?" he asks when she sits down in Government. The question feels like it's been in his throat all day. It's a relief to get it out.

She nods, not even looking at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." She pulls out her supplies for taking notes. "Why do you ask?"

"You've been acting weird. Why did you stay after class this morning? Where were you at lunch?" There's no pause between his questions, he realizes, but it's too late to fix that now. They had been building up, and since one got out, the rest had to follow in suit.

"I'm fine, Darcy. Don't worry about it."

* * *

She barely speaks when he drives her home. It begins to worry him.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Lizzy nods.

As they pull into her driveway, she opens the car door before he even puts the car into park. William begins to scold her about this, but she leans over and plants a kiss on his open mouth.

"I'm fine."

She's gone before he can even react.

* * *

When his cell phone rings at work, he is confused. The only people that have his number are Gee, his father, and Mrs. Reynolds. There is no reason for any of them to call him, especially when he's at work.

"Hello?"

"Hi." Her voice surprises him, he wasn't expecting her to be on the line. It is like a breath of fresh air to him though, especially in this stifling place.

"Hi." William sits up straighter, pressing the phone to his ear as if this will make them closer.

"Charlotte is pregnant."

Three seconds pass before he asks, "Who?"

"Charlotte," she replies. "My friend that works with me, remember?"

He racks his brain but cannot place the name to a face. Is this truly why she's calling him? He had hoped it had been for something better, though he doesn't know what.

"Yes," he lies. "She works with you."

"She's Mr. Lucas's daughter. That's why he was out for three days."

William knows this is someone he should know, but he really can't think of who this person is. Obviously he knows people work with Lizzy, but he wasn't exactly paying attention to any of them the times he's been there to see her.

"How old is she?" That's a safe question, right?

"She's 22. She's supposed to graduate college this year."

"Is she not going to?" He calculates the months until graduation and the months it takes to grow a baby. William can't remember at what month during gestation the woman starts to actually look pregnant, but he is pretty sure a graduation gown could hide that.

"I don't know. She's talking about marrying Collin now." Lizzy says the name with such disgust, and William is now more confused than ever.

"Collin who?"

"Collin Thompson from our Physics class," she says miserably.

So many thoughts race through William's mind, but perhaps the most inappropriate of all was how could someone actually want to have sexual intercourse with Collin Thompson? He was at least a head shorter than Lizzy. What girl would be attracted to his already receding hairline, clumsiness, and overall stupidity? What girl could even _stand_ to be around his nasally voice which, in his experience, never ceased?

"How could Charlotte even sleep with him?" Lizzy echoes his thoughts. "He's so _gross_."

"Are they together?"

"No," she replies. "They hooked up at Charlie's party."

"Where?"

Lizzy makes a frustrated noise, and he can practically see those lines form on her forehead. "Does that really matter, Darcy?"

"Yes," he argues. "I want to know where _not_ to sit."

"I don't know." Her voice is lighter now. He imagines a smile on her lips. "I'll ask Charlotte."

"Please do. We won't go to Charles's house in the mean time."

"Okay." A slight laugh and then she is silent for a good minute. "Charlotte wants to marry him."

"He's still in high school." It's an obvious statement, but he feels like it still needs to be addressed.

"I know. Plus, he's _gross_. And way too young for her. I can't imagine wanting to marry someone still in high school."

"Is he even old enough to make that decision?"

"Charlotte says he's 18." Lizzy gives a distressed moan. "He's so gross, and she can do so much better. She just wants to marry him because he has money and can help with the baby."

William isn't sure if the Thompsons will want their son to marry someone like Charlotte. For the life of him, he can't remember what she looks like, but anyone willing to sleep with Collin Thompson can't have many options to begin with.

"That shouldn't be the only reason she wants to marry him though. She's acting like that's the only option she has," Lizzy continues.

"It's probably the most attractive option. What would the others be? A clinic or adoption?"

"She doesn't just have to get _rid _of the baby. She could do it on her own."

William snorts. "That's a much less attractive option than having the baby's father there to provide financial support."

"She could keep working and finish school-"

"Lizzy," he interrupts, as gently as possible because he knows that this is a volatile conversation they're having. "That's unrealistic."

"No, it's not! It's been done before."

"Of course it has, but it's not easy. How would she be able to find a job after she graduates with a baby on the way? Most places don't want to just hire a woman who will leave in a month for maternity leave that they'd have to pay for anyway."

"She could stay at the yogurt shop and work. I'm sure my uncle would help her out and give her the hours she needs-"

"And then what happens when she has the baby? Who is going to take care of it while she's out making minimum wage to make ends meet? Where will she live? When will she find time to look for another job?"

"I don't know! I just know she can't marry Collin. He's so ridiculous. I told her so."

"What did she say?"

"She got mad at me and accused me of being judgmental, which is stupid. Charlotte is just not thinking clearly. She thinks she needs Collin to help her with the baby, but she-"

"Maybe she doesn't need _him_ to actually take care of the baby, but his money would be a big help. Do you know how much it costs to raise a kid?"

"She's got her parents to help her though. She is acting like she's all alone."

"What does her mom do?"

"She works with my mom as a manager."

William quickly calculates the income of a department store manager and a high school teacher. It's not good. "You really think they're going to be able to afford taking care of a baby on their income?"

"My mom takes care of five kids on half their income," she tells him stubbornly.

"Yes, but you and your sisters don't require as much as a baby does: diapers, strollers, cribs, bottles-"

"I just don't want her to marry Collin!"

He closes his eyes and gives a sigh. The distress in her voice makes his heart clench, and he wants to say something valuable to take it away, but doesn't know what. The hands on the clock tick, and William watches as a whole minute passes without him saying a single thing.

"Darcy, are you still there?"

"Yes." He's here.

* * *

"I smell like yogurt," she complains halfheartedly.

His hands tighten their hold on her hips, and he kisses her neck. "I don't mind."

"You're weird," Lizzy sighs, but she wraps her arms around his neck anyway.

William smiles before giving her neck another kiss, lingering to breathe her in. He doesn't know what she's talking about. She smells like her usual lilacs and citrus.

"Darcy."

"Mmm?" He looks up and can barely make out her face in the dark. It's late, but he had wanted to see her so here he is. He'd convinced Lizzy to call her mother to tell her not to come pick her up from work. The last 30 minutes had been spent watching her clean and close down the small shop. He'd kept his self-control, but now they're outside, and the smell of rain is as apparent as the mud on his shoes. It smells like Lizzy out here, and he's so completely intoxicated by it all.

Her words die on her lips as he covers her mouth with his own.

William likes when their kisses start out slow. He still enjoys exploring her mouth. She is a thrilling mixture of warm and cool, and he can taste orange on her tongue from the yogurt he watched her eat right before she turned the machines off. His heart constricts when he feels her arms tighten their hold around him.

Not breaking the contact of their mouths, he maneuvers them a few steps so that her back is pressed against his car and his body pressed firmly against hers. William's hands slowly find themselves underneath her shirt, his fingers drawing a disjointed map on her skin.

When she breaks their kiss for air, her chest expands as she sucks in breath and her head tilts back, giving him full access to her neck. He intends only to plant soft, chaste kisses on her neck like he had before, but when his open mouth makes contact with her cool skin, she gives a harsh exhale of the breath she had just gone through all the trouble of taking in. William feels emboldened.

His tongue slowly paints the same map on her neck that his fingers are so frantically drawing on her hips. He trails his mouth to the spot between her jaw and earlobe and sucks.

It's subtle, but he feels a slight push of her hips into his at the same time she tilts her head further to the side so he has better access. So he does it again and, this time, is rewarded with a quiet moan. William wants to be closer to her, though he thinks that might actually be physically impossible. With his chest pressed so tightly to hers, he swears he can feel her heart beating rapidly in time with his own.

He feels her hands on either side of his head as she gently moves it so that he is facing her again. Their noses touch, and he holds her eyes for a brief second before he can't take it anymore. He _needs_ to be kissing her. So he does.

Her hips keep pushing against his, and it's driving him absolutely _mad_. Without thinking, he pushes back, and the pleasure of the friction takes him by surprise. He can't prevent the groan that escapes his lips.

William can feel her mouth form a smile. He pulls away just to check.

"What?" she asks when she sees that he's got a quizzical look on his face.

"Nothing." His own lips curve upwards.

Lizzy rolls her eyes.

"How far have you gone with a guy?" he asks suddenly. The question is out of his mouth before his brain can even decide if it should be asked, but now that it's there, he finds himself waiting nervously for the answer.

Her eyebrows knit together. "Why?"

"I want to know." It's an answer he learned from her. He sees that she's as annoyed with it as he is when she uses it on him.

Lizzy's expression doesn't change and neither does her response. "Why?"

"Because I want to know."

"You tell me how far you've gone with a girl first." Her lip juts out into a stubborn pout, and her expression becomes guarded.

"Not very far," he replies, staring at her lip, wondering which he wants more: to know her answer or just kiss her again.

"How far is that?"

His desire to kiss her wins, but she's not having it. Lizzy moves her head away when he bends down. "Darcy." Her voice is stern.

He sighs and wants to kick himself for even bringing this up. "Not very far, Lizzy."

"Well, neither have I."

William understands this game. She won't give anymore than he gives her.

He straightens up so that he can look at her properly, as properly as one can in a moonlit parking lot.

"I haven't had sex with anyone," he confesses to her quietly. It doesn't feel strange to say this to her, even though he's never told anyone this before. Perhaps it is because he's already told her so many of his important secrets. This one doesn't struggle like the others; it comes out clearly and purposefully.

The creases in her forehead soften, and he takes his right hand off her hip so that he can touch the skin of her forehead now. His knuckles graze the now smooth surface before he slowly cups her cheek. His fingers stretch to make paths into her hair.

"Neither have I."

He smiles, because he had suspected as much. Much later, years and years after this moment, he'll recognize that he had hoped just as much as he had suspected. He wanted to know that they shared this as well, that his secrets were exchanged for hers, and that they were equals.

"So just…kissing?" she asks. Her eyes are hard, but her voice is small and uncertain.

"Light petting and touching. Nothing beyond a girl in her knickers though."

"Touching over or under…knickers?" Her nose scrunches at the word, but he loves the way she says it with her American accent.

William kisses her nose affectionately without thinking. "Over."

"Oh." She looks forlorn, rather than comforted, which confuses him.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Something."

"I haven't done anything in…knickers." She looks troubled.

He shrugs, not sure if he should say that he guessed as much. Who would she really do these things with? "I don't mind," he says instead.

"I'm still deciding if I mind you and other girls in their underwear," she admits, frowning.

He's disappointed that she's gone to the American terminology, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like her jealousy.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thank you all for sticking with this story and your amazing responses. Also, all three of my betas: Lynnie, Colleen, and Erika are awesome. This chapter was a mess before they all got their hands on it, haha. These ladies truly do magic to my writing. As always, please let me know your thoughts and leave a review. Happy Fourth of July, everyone!


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